Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Goodbye, Uncle...
Saturday, after finding out about the death of my Uncle Cliff, was a strange day. I felt...well, discombobulated. I wanted to do something to honor the memory of my Uncle, a man of great influence on my younger years, and I had come up with going to the park early in the morning to light a candle for him.
By about 10 pm I was becomming restless. I needed to get out. I needed to get moving.
I came up with an alternative plan; I would drive to the coast instead and say my goodbye there.
It's about an hour drive, maybe a little more, to the Pacific.
I made a pot of coffee, grabbed my supplies, put some mellow, thoughful music in my cd changer and started the trip at about 11.
Usually I come up with good ideas and for one reason or another don't follow through. I'm a little proud of myself that I actually made the effort on this one.
Standing in the dark on a empty, remote beach is a queer experience; I kept wondering when the Leviathan would strike. Even though, I lit a candle and a stick of incense before I started to say my goodbye. I talked about the times I remembered, and was able to recall several deeply buried moments.
Uncle C. really liked children, and went out of his way to make all children feel special.
I remebered trips with his and my families to Atlantic City (before it became a gambling meca), and England.
I rememberd playing tenis on his front lawn, and his 'rubber' plant.
I remember his garden. He had a really cool backyard.
Picnics and pool parties.
Many other memories. It felt good to talk about them.
Also, something strange happened during the trip. Seriously, I can't explain it, and it continues to bother me.
Just as I reached Florence, the city that is at the end of the highway from Eugene to the coast, I hit a little bump on the road, nothing major - I've encountered much worse, and my CD changer died. Kaput! It had never done anything like that before. I pulled over, poped up my back seat and played around with it for a little while, but I couldn't get it to turn back on.
I continued on up the coast, found an accessible stretch of beach and performed my ceremony. I thought that maybe the stop might reset whatever was wrong with my chagner. Unfortunately it still didn't work.
I drove back most of the way to Eugene in silence, until I couldn't take it any more and turned on the radio.
I arrived back in Eugene at about 2:30 and pulled into a Shari's restaurant for some strawberry pancakes (I had decided I would end my night this way before setting out - it just felt like the right thing to do).
After returning to the car, I tried my disc changer one last time, and sure enough it worked.
I'd like to think this was some kind of message - seriously I would - but what?
"Stop listening to so much music, you hippie?" Actually my Uncle would never call me a hippie, which is good since I'm not one.
Anyway, I find this incident intriguing and strange. There is always a reason for everything.
By about 10 pm I was becomming restless. I needed to get out. I needed to get moving.
I came up with an alternative plan; I would drive to the coast instead and say my goodbye there.
It's about an hour drive, maybe a little more, to the Pacific.
I made a pot of coffee, grabbed my supplies, put some mellow, thoughful music in my cd changer and started the trip at about 11.
Usually I come up with good ideas and for one reason or another don't follow through. I'm a little proud of myself that I actually made the effort on this one.
Standing in the dark on a empty, remote beach is a queer experience; I kept wondering when the Leviathan would strike. Even though, I lit a candle and a stick of incense before I started to say my goodbye. I talked about the times I remembered, and was able to recall several deeply buried moments.
Uncle C. really liked children, and went out of his way to make all children feel special.
I remebered trips with his and my families to Atlantic City (before it became a gambling meca), and England.
I rememberd playing tenis on his front lawn, and his 'rubber' plant.
I remember his garden. He had a really cool backyard.
Picnics and pool parties.
Many other memories. It felt good to talk about them.
Also, something strange happened during the trip. Seriously, I can't explain it, and it continues to bother me.
Just as I reached Florence, the city that is at the end of the highway from Eugene to the coast, I hit a little bump on the road, nothing major - I've encountered much worse, and my CD changer died. Kaput! It had never done anything like that before. I pulled over, poped up my back seat and played around with it for a little while, but I couldn't get it to turn back on.
I continued on up the coast, found an accessible stretch of beach and performed my ceremony. I thought that maybe the stop might reset whatever was wrong with my chagner. Unfortunately it still didn't work.
I drove back most of the way to Eugene in silence, until I couldn't take it any more and turned on the radio.
I arrived back in Eugene at about 2:30 and pulled into a Shari's restaurant for some strawberry pancakes (I had decided I would end my night this way before setting out - it just felt like the right thing to do).
After returning to the car, I tried my disc changer one last time, and sure enough it worked.
I'd like to think this was some kind of message - seriously I would - but what?
"Stop listening to so much music, you hippie?" Actually my Uncle would never call me a hippie, which is good since I'm not one.
Anyway, I find this incident intriguing and strange. There is always a reason for everything.
