J

It's raining outside, and the house is silent, and my Nightspell incense is burning pleasantly. Ollie and I just got back from a quick walk. I would have stayed out longer save for the rain, plus I ran a BUNCH of errands today -- and I'm plain tired. It's been an emotional couple weeks. B passed away (he was a participant at VOA), and while I didn't know him well I mourn his passing. And I got an email yesterday from Laura, one of my friends and fellow volunteers at Our House, and she told me that J was very sick, only has a couple days left, and I should go see him. So I did. I sat with J yesterday and we listened to music, and I couldn't believe how thin he'd gotten -- now I know what that phrase skin and bones really looks like. Plus he has a rash, and his body is covered in these sores all over. Despite his looming passing, and B's passing, they have been sewn into the tapestry of my life and I've gotten many signs lately that say, Hush, Nathan, it's okay. It's okay. One deals with that word "okay." I bought this amazing sweatshirt at my new favorite store, Blue, the other day. On it, it says: "Everything will be okay." And I feel like it's my mission to wear the sweatshirt and comfort people. Then, last night, two things: 1) Karla, Mom, and I watched The United States of Leland, and Ryan Gosling's character says, "It's okay," to this boy with a disability....he had to learn to say these words from his girlfriend, played the wonderful Jena Malone. 2) Then, during the movie, Alice leaves me a voice mail message saying, "I thought it would be good to talk to you....You know how to tell people, 'Everything will be okay.'" She used those exact words! Another powerful thing is that yesterday morning I stopped writing soon after I'd started in the morning, and I decided to make a 2-disc music compilation. I was just filled with this need to do it right away, even though I was going to wait a few weeks. Then I told myself: I'll listen to it tomorrow, while I write -- but I felt this burning desire to take it in the car with me, something I don't often do with brand-new compilations. I usually let them gain power in my walkman at home. But I took it along, and then at work yesterday morning I got the message about J, and while visiting I told him I'd made a compilation (he loves music) and he asked to listen to it....So I brought it in and gave him the copy and sat with him through one of the discs. I know he loves it. I plan on going back tomorrow for a while, to sit with him, to read, to be in his presence. He is a truly lovely soul and I know he appreciates my story of when I went to visit him in the hospital, when he was sleeping for a couple weeks, and I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and I looked up and saw his spirit and he smiled at me, him in all his power and strength and resilient goodness. I love you, J. You are such a blessing. And you told me you're ready to "let go" and I know that YOU know you are just transcending to another plane, where you're not sick and not just skin and bones and that White Light Soul can just burst out all over the place and do more amazing things. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend. Sweet dreams.