An open letter to Kevin, six years today

CW: In these strange days, please know that this letter contains specific descriptions of end-of-life, of grief, and of the days we are living through. 

Dear Kevin,

Here we are, the morning of the day you died, six years on. I remember waking that morning and fearing you'd slipped away in the night, knowing that today was the the day. I remember the smell of the hospital room, the angle of your head, the utter focus of those moments. I remember the hospital chaplain who visited, stroked your hair and told me he always found that comforting when he was a boy, when ill. I remember hoping it was comforting for you, and wondering if you even were aware of it. I remember that I was wearing your grey long underwear top. I remember the moment your heart stopped, the slide of your eyes which had been watching me to that very moment, and the very physical pain in my own body. I remember the sound I made, unbidden. I remember the feel of your skin as your body cooled. I remember.

I remember your laugh, your smile, your touch. I remember the sharpness of your mind, the sound of your breath, your scent, the expression on your face when you danced, the shape of your legs and back as you rode your bike. I remember how much you liked ketchup, but I don't remember everything you put it on. I remember the focus with which you'd watch television, but I can no longer list all of your favorite shows. I remember how much you loved swimming but I don't remember the print of your swim trunks. I remember you liked red wine and crisp white wines, but I don't remember what kind of beer you liked. I remember your feet but I don't remember what kind of socks you liked to wear.

I remember so much and I have forgotten so much. I am losing the details of you, the knowledge that comes from daily life, and that hurts terribly, each thing I realize I've forgotten a new small grief. I know this is the way it's supposed to work, but that doesn't make it easier. I know, too, that this is a peculiarity of my own mind, my memories of you are my own and others have their own version of you tucked away. So it is.

You are still so much a part of me and yet more distant. Like the water in this photo, you are everywhere, you are letting me know you're okay, but I can't see all of the specifics. I love that the camera captured you in blue, your favorite color. I remember that.

The world is so very strange now. I keep wondering what you'd think of it, how you would manage social distancing and staying in. I know how worried you would be for your kids, your mom (now with you, I trust you're enjoying each other), your friends. It would be hard for you not to run to some of them, even knowing it wasn't wise. I can imagine you on the couch, legs stretched out, focused on the show of the moment, waiting for this to pass. Honestly, I am relieved you don't have to live through this. It's an odd feeling to hold and admit, that there are some things I'm glad you've not been here for. It feels like another betrayal in some ways, and also so true.

The whole world is learning some hard lessons about loss, grief, and survival right now. Writing this letter to you in the context of COVID-19 is surreal and difficult. I'm not sure what to say other than that I love you still.

Maybe that's what I should close with, love in the time of COVID-19. I have learned a few things about love in the years since your death (that's a hard phrase, years since your death), maybe they were things I was learning before, but they are bright and clear now. Maybe it will help someone to read them. Maybe it will help me to write a few down.

• Love with abandon. 
• Love means you will be hurt. Love anyway.
• Let those you love know repeatedly and often.
• When you lose them, and you will, it will hurt beyond words. The only way out is through and then through again, and yet again.
• Whatever you may forget, the love endures.

So it goes. I love you Kevin and I always will. Thank you for your time on this planet, your time with me, your whole self the parts public and concealed, flawed and perfect. Thank you for the hints that you aren't gone, and for the things I do remember. I love you from the middle of the middle of me to the middle of the middle of you.

One way or another, I'll see you around.

Laura

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(c)2019 Laura S. Packer

Seven things to do with storytelling when you don't want to go outside

This was originally written during a cold 2011 New England winter, but it seems strikingly relevant now, when we are all washing our hands a million times a day and tracking COVID-19 as it moves closer and closer to our communities.

The world seems like it was so much simpler then. 

I've kept the original context for historical reasons and have added a few more thoughts. 

We're deep in the heart of winter, up here in the Northern hemisphere. These short, cold days and long dark nights lead me to nesting behavior. I just don't want to go outside when it's 10F with 2 feet of snow on the ground. I know, I'm a wimp, but this offers me a chance to hunker down and do some reading.

It's been awhile since I posted storytelling resources. I'm betting some of you are like me, having a tough time getting outside in this weather. In the spirit of keeping our creative fires burning, here are some storytelling things you might do from the comfort of your home. Please note, some of these links were previously posted here, but this is an updated list.

1. Learn something new, part 1. How about adding a traditional tale to your repertoire? If nothing else, reading some of the old stories will remind of you that people haven't changed very much in the last 10,000 years. The same things still matter to us, it's just at a more frantic pace. You might learn something about yourself or find a piece you'd like to tell or alter, you might even find some comfort in knowing people have made it through tough times before now.
   There are many great online resources full of traditional stories.
   
• Sur la Lune is a lovely site with detailed analysis of some familiar (and less familiar) fairy tales. Also links to a store with merchandise for folktale nerds like me.
• Folklore and Mythology Electronic Texts has a fairly academic and thorough listing of hundreds of story texts. 
• The Internet Sacred Text Archive includes myths and legends from around the world. 
• Google books has complete texts available you can find with a simple search. Looking for fairy tales? How about Indian fairy tales? Or Hindu fairy tales?  Give it shot, see what you find. You might be surprised. Karen Chace's wonderful blog has many great resources, including this list of fairy tale books on google books. 
• Check out Csenge Zalka's amazing blog, The Multicolored Diary, for some wonderful world stories. 
2. Learn something new, part 2. 
• What about a personal story? Or some fiction? Try a genre that you don't usually engage in, or try telling in a style new to you.
• Explore the resources at your local library. Most public libraries have their catalogs available online. Many will allow you to hold a book that you can pick up later, when it's warmer and many have vast digital holdings that you can access without going outside. Try a catalog search for storytelling with children, for example. Or some other topic that interests you. See what you can find!
• Learn about a new kind of storytelling. As I mentioned last week, it's sometimes good to tell the stories that scare you. Check out the site for an organization that does something you'd like to tell about. Do you care about marine life? Go to the Cousteau Society and see how they tell their story. How would you tell that same story? What about digital storytelling? Or stand-up comedy?
• Read an article by someone you admire. Many storytellers maintain blogs or archives of their advice. Go to their websites and poke around. 
• Try some new kind of art. Maybe you could write a poem, do a collage, or something else to nourish your creative spirit.
3. Listen to some stories, watch some storytellers in action. Organizations like massmouth post videos of storytellers strutting their stuff. What about trying a youtube search for storytelling? Maybe your favorite festival has videos online from previous years?
4. Work with a coach to dig deeper. Many coaches, myself included, work via Zoom, Skype, Hangouts, or others video conferencing technologies. None of us need to go through creatively challenging times alone, help is out there at the click of a mouse.
5. Hone your craft. There's no time like the present to work on your own skills as a storyteller and business owner.
• How about telling a story in your living room, recording it and then going over the recording? What was great? What could be eliminated or fleshed out?
• Work on a new idea. Jot down some notes, call a friend and aks them to brainstorm with you.
• When was the last time you updated your webpage, resume, facebook or linkedin pages?
• Send a few emails to organizations where you'd like to tell.
• Update your basic press release.
6. Tell someone a story. Do you live with room-mates, family, friends? Do you have a telephone or an internet connection? You can always reach out and tell someone a story. Maybe even more importantly, you can listen to their story. Ask them to tell you a story. You might be amazed at what happens.
7. Join the Virtual Storytelling Guild. You can share stories from the comfort of your own home, listen to others tell in real time, and share the fire of storytelling, all through video-conference. 

These challenging days are also a gift. We have the chance to pull into our shells and do some housekeeping, catch up with ourselves. Savor the time.

(c)2011 and 2020 Laura S. Packer