Waiting (part 2)

Exhale

Life on All Fours
Book Launch Party and Fundraiser

Among sunbeams filtered through a ancient vaulted ceiling of needle and bark, transfixed and transported, am I dreaming?  Five long, short years in the making, the struggle with a blank page and the love affair, divorce and make-up between words—it is finally done. The mere fact of this completion feels like one of life’s great wonders.

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On this day the soft carpet of redwood giants makes everything sound like a caress and the rustle of pine leaves like the coo of tree fairies. This is a gentle gathering, hearts connected. In the middle of the small forest cathedral is an offering—two dozen tall and proud pink lilies surrounded by plates and bowls piled high with food, dreamed and crafted with love by my family’s hands.  We are a tribe raised on edible love. Eat, drink—celebrate life and the ability to eat it.

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Legs, two and four, play, sniff, consume, and converse in a verdant meadow marked by balloons and blankets and sparkling sunshine. Every so often a poster monument—a wet, shiny, brown dog, covered with sand, expectant eyes and “Life on All Fours,” prominently placed at his feet. This is the spirit that I can barely hold without the accompaniment of tears; the spirit that sat by my feet through the hours and hours of labor, the spirit that became voice and led me through the dark valleys, the spirit that loved me despite my ill-tempered impatience, the spirit that left his physical form when his work was done.

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On this day, with the help of over ninety compassionate folk, we remembered: HIV stories hidden in closets, faded red ribbons, and those living who are infected and affected by this disease. We raised money for The HIV Story Project; a San Francisco based non-profit organization focused on bridging HIV/AIDS with film, media and storytelling to fight the pandemic and the global stigma associated with it.

Gathered in a semi-circle, sitting on fallen logs, reminiscent of boyhood campfires, soft eyes hold me in their gaze. As one wise friend declares, “The day is perfect, it requires nothing more of you.” Yet the hardest task is yet to be lived—show up and be seen. Generous arms hold me as I stumble over tears and words. The waiting is over.