SUNday morning — a new beginning

Last night, something happened.
After a long and important wait, I blogged yesterday, sharing the details of our terrifying wreck and our gradual recovery, in the outer reaches of northeastern Wyoming.
Yesterday’s post was an early footnote on yet another day of complicated, arduous, thankless efforts at planning our steps ahead. I cried a lot yesterday — unexpected bursts of emotion, triggered by some tiny thought, or somebody’s comment, or a moment of gratitude, or even just following a deep, tired breath.
Farhad and I drove an absurd circuitous gauntlet before finally laying hands on The Last uHaul in Wyoming (at least it seemed), and on the way back, my chest heaved like never before as I tried to make peace with the sadness, the remorse and yes — the gratitude for being alive. Just the exhausting amount of feeling lately.
At the end of this long day, which included clearing the contents of “Edna,” in waning light, and seeing Chris roll onto “the lot” for the first time, something happened. Something good.
I can’t put a word on it, but things are getting better. We laughed some. We ate together, for the first time in days, not just at the same time, but together. And I saw this pallor lift some, from all of us — individually, and together. I can’t emphasize the last enough. This catastrophe has been hard on “the group,” or “the team” or whatever. We don’t really have a name. We might have once been called the Crew of Marge, but… well… you understand.
I had fears — punishing fears, nightmare-inducing fears — that our group didn’t really exist anymore, that we were really just waiting to disperse, and walk as far away as possible from this place, this time, this fucking sadness — and maybe each other. But last night, I saw a glow coming back over my brother — that signature warmth that those who know him treasure, and which I try to emulate. Over, dinner, I felt a great load lift and the toil lessen.
I cannot find words to express my gratitude for this, my second miracle.
There are still questions and things to do. Together, we’ve decided to do a meaningful and honest appraisal of the contents of Marge, and do some sober stacking, if you will. Together, we’ve decided that Farhad and I will most likely leave in the uHaul later today, and head for Black Rock City, leaving Chris and the dogs here for just a short while, with a couple of appealing transportation options. (favor: beg him TO FLY. Arrangements are in place: c h r i s [a t] hotfut dot c o m)
Stay tuned for more. Thanks for caring about our saga, and best wishes to you today.

photo ©Greg Eans, taken on Sunday, August 22, 2010, in Owensboro, KY

0 Replies to “SUNday morning — a new beginning”

  1. A friend of ours left me a message to tell me of your accident, and I must say that I stopped breathing for a long moment waiting for the words that you are all OK. Having been in an accident I can relate to the feeling of scarier as you remember. I am feeling so thankful that all you humans and dogs are safe and traveling forward to the magic. I hope that you will continue to feel more healing with each passing day. Please hug each other for me. I love you!

  2. Marge was such an amazing work of art and love. She reminds me of the sand paintings done by Tibetan Monks. So much painstaking perfection and jaw-dropping beautiful wonder… gone in an instant. The point was the journey, the process… And the most amazing part of it all is that you all are still part of the journey on this earth. Thank God.

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