Saturday, November 17, 2007

Some Changes and a New Initiative

I will be placing an amazon store link and several ways for people to help in a way that Marcie would approve. I intend to have a store of all of the things that Marcie read or watched, including videos she owned. Some will be her old items, but clicking through to something you want from Amazon itself will also provide me with a share of the sale.

I will also be selling off my own media and other Amazon-listed items. Hopefully, by the time the mission begins, I will have little left in the house that is not something connected to her or me in a way that matters. This, along with some writing revenue and other savings, should help get me there.

There will be a number of ways to help via Amazon. I'll post about them as I set them all up and launch them. Later tonight, I hope to add more pictures, perhaps change the banner and post about Marcie and my relationship's evolution over the years.

I will also have guests who may let me take pictures as they look through the house for mementos. We'll see.


Thursday, November 15, 2007

Finding Moments of Marcie

On the day Marcie died, there were reports from people she was close to that they awoke between 2:00 and 2:15 in the morning of October 29 and had no idea why, or had dreams with Marcie in them before waking. As I relayed in this post, I was hoping that perhaps she could find some time to visit me.

A note before I continue with my experience. I am not a psychic, nor do I claim to be, and I do not know what I believe about the afterlife or even if there is one. But there are a few things I do know, and they alone are enough to give me slight solace and wild hopes.

The first idea is that everything in the universe has always been and will always be in the universe. The energy which is converted into more and more complex forms of matter itself can be converted back to energy. The forms may change, our perceptions of them may change or end, but the phenomena which aggregates around us is no more or less than that which the raw potential existence of the universe has always been.

Why this matters to me in regards to Marcie is that all potential fluctuates in its manifestation over time, becoming observable phenomena only as it leaves tracks in time marking where it was. Marcie, as a phenomenon, is therefore still leaving her own tracks in time, the potentials she represented still unresolved and working their way through the landscape of the universe, interacting with it and our potential in different ways.

All interaction affects all phenomena. Being affected by an idea, even about a place in a picture or about which one dreams, causes that idea or phenomenon to change in nature, even if only to gain the attribute of being something one has become aware of. That interaction itself, seeing a place and knowing it, then becomes a phenomenon itself, leaving its own footprint in time.

Set on that backdrop in my mind is the vivid experience I had on November 1. I had fallen asleep and was dreaming about an odd place filled with junk and crowded with people I knew who milled about and talked to each other. I did not seem to be able to open a conversation with anyone, but I knew I was dreaming.

I sighed and wondered why I had to be at this strange event filled with people who could not talk to me, or did not know I was there. The scene changed. It was as if the sun had gone down and a room had grown around me. I looked up in the dream and she was there, her eyes closed but a warm, calm look on her lips, a gentle smile.

I reached out to her and hugged her immediately to me, carefully and trying to keep myself calm, to stay in the dream with her for a little while. She was warm. She felt like her, smelled like her. I cried.

"Oh, oh, oh, honey," she said. "Oh."

It broke me. It was the last thing she said to me of any coherence before she died, and I sobbed then, too, draping myself over her in her horrible hospital bed prison, as if I could stand between death and her poor, ravaged body, shield her from oblivion. It was as if the loss and the inevitability of it all was reimposing itself on us.

After a time just holding her, stroking her back and burying my face in her neck, breathing just enough to manage shoulder-heaving sobs, I gathered up some composure and held her hips. I leaning back and looked down, then looked at her at her at eye level.

"So, baby," I asked, somehow unperturbed by her closed eyes and serene smile. "How is it? Are you okay? What is it like?"

She did not so much look at me as it seemed I felt the presence of her focus on the question. She slipped from my hands and floated up. I saw her body, naked but whole again, no scars from surgery, no stretches and tears from reconstruction, no emaciation or loose flesh and atrophied muscle to sully her.

I wondered if she enjoyed where she was and was happy that the pain was gone. She seemed to hear my thought, her lips opening in a slight smile.

"I don't know, honey," she said. "It's still a little loopy up there."

She faded away as I woke and wiped away tears. I did not so much awaken as my eyes opened and the gray room became our living room. As the light of the street lamps outside gave things form, I realized I was awakening at 2:12 AM.

I was inspired to rewrite a poem I had written to her early on in our love, which ended up (in slightly mortuary-misspelled form) in Marcie's Memorial Book.

Fire Child

A fire glows deep in your eyes,
Embracing me again.
You will not share what you devise,
You cannot tell me when
You'll come to me in dreams and sighs
And help me to ascend.
When that day comes, I realize
A new chase to you begins.

Other interactions have come. Some, I am sure, I have not remembered. I have heard her voice calling me to wake up, impatiently but gently nudging me into the day, as she always did. I have heard her laugh, smelled her on the air when I awoke to it. Always at the edge of my wakefulness or sleep, but not again so far at the same profound level as the first experience she gave me.

I do not know if there is life or the survival of the ego after death. One can have faith, one can believe, and one can think one knows. But the truth is we cannot really know, no matter how many cues we get in dreams and signs and sentiments.

What I am sure of is that I cherish every little hint of her that steps into my consciousness, be it on tiptoe or charging in in full naked glory, as she was wont to do in life. Whether Marcie has come to me as a process of my mind, a manifestation of her own spirit or simply as the part of her we in our relationship have made part of me, is irrelevant.

Rational philosophy and logic, regardless all dogma and argument for or against spiritual explanations, tells me that all phenomena and potentials affect all others and are affected themselves as well. Whether by active agency of Marcie's will or not, the fact that she visits me is proof enough that her phenomena and potential still affect me.

While she was alive in body, Marcie wrote a list of places to visit and left that list in a box of personal letters from friends she loved. She saw them as places to explore her potential.

I will visit them, and hope that as I chase her again, I'll get more visits, be they echoes of her in my heart, memories of her in my mind replaying themselves, or her beautiful soul drifting down to hold me up for just a little while longer.

Expect something less lengthy for tomorrow, and some changes to the sight as well. I may do a podcast of all of the songs Marcie loved, with a little voiceover and some anecdotes from me.

Good night, folks.


Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Starting the Voyage

I am posting a money tally soon. I have some ideas about how to gauge progress toward the mission's budget. Expect the layout to change in subtle ways. Eventually, I should have a complete custom blog template here. More on that later... It's time to get moving.

I'll be selling some articles to local media to help get to my goal and be ready to travel. I'll be selling that work, hopefully, to Voice of San Diego, CityBeat, or SignOn.I imagine with a slew of awards under my belt (from this year, no less), it will be fairly easy to get some stringer work.

I am looking for writing assignments, folks. I can do just about any kind of article you can imagine, from "How to," to, "How come?" I can create supporting graphics and do my own photography. If you have any leads or assignments, contact me by replying to this post with a comment. Include your email address. You'll find mine embedded in the comment form.

I will be restarting my San Diego journalism blog again. I also plan to do some political and investigative coverage. As far as covering education goes, that is a nay, of course.

Tomorrow, I will be sharing some personal moments of Marcie with you. Does anyone want to share one of theirs? Let me know...

Thank you for your support. I'll write tomorrow.


Tuesday, November 13, 2007

A Big Day for the Little Things

I have been catching myself wondering what I am forgetting to do all day long. It has been disconcerting, to say the least. I found myself thinking, "I forgot something," at 11:30, 12:30 and now, again, as 2 p.m. approaches.

I know what they all mean now, but that's just made it harder to get through the day, so I decided to share. I guess I won't unravel just how wound up my world was in my Marcie for a long time to come.

My day used to be:

8 - 11:30 (AM) Work. Tolerate the drudgery and pine for the outdoors and fresh air.
11:30 - 11:45 Call Marcie. Get/Give love. Drudgery dispelled.
12:30 - 1 (PM) Lunch. Pick up something at Henry's, maybe visit home. Always visited home after Marcie was bedridden. Either way, get more love.
2 - 2:15 (PM) Call Marcie. Find out if I need to pick stuff up. Get/Give love.

The little things count very much. Beyond those though is the realization that, like her touch, her smell and the sight of her, I miss her voice, even if I still believe I get to feel the love. :(

Monday, November 12, 2007

Marcie's Permanent Memorial

I have been keeping my plans close to the vest on the big memorial in some quarters, but letting some people in on the plan who might understand. Since it is our anniversary today, I chose it to make the announcement and set the wheels in motion.

I have a mission to undertake for Marcie, and I will need some help. I will be taking my baby's ashes all over the Mediterranean, North Africa, the Middle East and Southern Europe. I will leave a little of her in every city on her list of places she wanted to see.

The journey will not simply be a tour. I will be looking for little wisps of Marcie's spirit in each place I visit. It is my idea that things which resonate with us retain some of that resonance forever, as we retain memories. I will do my best to catch the echoes of her soul which may linger in those far-flung places, and will write about the whole thing as my voyage proceeds.

Watch the video to find out where we will be going. Click on it to play and for options. It has sound, so listen in.

I will be updating the page every day, gathering my memories and observations, and sharing the journey, which began the day she died.

Interspersed with personal stories about my relationship with Marcie, our adventures and those of our friends, I will link to my and Marcie's items on Ebay and Craig's List. I will also start tying into other blogs and running print ads.

I'll keep a tally of the money as I build funds for the trip, including any media money or advances. It is my hope that my efforts here will help land support. Thank you for yours.

The best to all of you and all of yours,

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Announcement Delayed

Because some of the features I was building into my announcement about Marcie's memorial were not complete, I will be holding off. Additionally, since tomorrow would have been our anniversary, it just seemed a better time for the big announce...

Sorry, folks. F.

Pictures and Video from Susan Komen

So, I went to the Susan Komen finale for the San Diego 3-Day at Petco Park. Marcie was never enamored of the pink ribbon phenomenon. She supported Komen and the mission, but her disease and the number of people offering pink ribbon items was a little too much. I remember her groaning over a bouquet.

I asked her why she was so nonplussed, and I had to write it down after she said it. It was something that reflected the kind of person she was. In her own words:

"I like the whole walk for the cure pink bow campaign concept. It's feminine, it's a ribbon, it's pink and it's all over the place. That's wonderful. What sucks is that every time someone brings me a gift with a pink ribbon, it reminds me that I am not Marcie the movie buff, or the woman in business development, or maybe even redhead. I'm breast-cancer Marcie. So I love the idea of helping, but I just want to be the smart redhead again, without the cancer."

I wanted that, too. But since that was not to be, we'll just focus on the event. It was massive. I recorded a clip of the event beginning.

Thank you to all of the people who marched, ran, walked and suffered for the cure. I have also set up a gallery of images from the event, along with this darkish slideshow. It's not my best work, but I did it.

Click on it to get video segments to share or just view, and better pictures to view. I have added captions to the gallery versions of these images.