Welcome to the world Arthur! It is exactly the right time for you!

One of the very few things that helped me not to flail yelingly at my mom yesterday during our one hour tech support phone call to help her to get through the anxiety she had about the task of copying 5 links and send them via email was remembering JZ's love to the world and most of its inhabitants.

Not proud at my lack of patience with her at times, but after over 40 minutes of guided instruction via TeamViewer most of her anxiety was gone and she realized once again that she can actually do this on her own pretty intuitively. This is a reoccurring theme.

So yeah, remembering JZ helped with finding patience in this call.

Welcome Arthur!

So glad JZ is surrounded by such love.

But I am also the person who wore a shirt of ita's to Black Panther and bought a towel for my friend Jesse's 42nd birthday (though he died a few years before that milestone) that I still use in his honor. Occasional fruit punch for Jaqueline seems appropriate, though perhaps I will stretch the definition to mean "mai tai or other tiki drink.

That's lovely, and I think expanding to mai tais and the like is emminently appropriate.

Hello new person!

Last night I had an intense anxiety dream where I was freaking out because I left my camera on the subway, and it was gone. And then I lay awake chastising myself: This is how my brain processes grief and loss? It seems shallow and selfish to reduce Jacqueline to an object like that.

Tom, I don't read that dream as equating Jacqueline with an object. Not at all. Dreams tend to use tangible objects to represent the underlying intangible emotion. At least, they definitely do for me. And honestly, the camera is what you use to share your creativity and artistic eye with the world, and those are things you certainly have in common with Jacqueline (not the camera, but the creativity and artistic eye). So it makes sense to me, and isn't shallow and selfish at all.

We have an occupational therapist coming to the house today in about an hour, to see what Tim needs help with. I really think they'll be pleasantly surprised at his progress. We have basically all the assistive devices he needs, and he uses them just fine. On the other hand, I'm sure the OT knows all kinds of stuff that we don't know (since it's their job), and maybe they'll have some useful tips for Tim. I just don't foresee the OT coming to the house repeatedly, like the PT.

Tom, I don't read that dream as equating Jacqueline with an object. Not at all. Dreams tend to use tangible objects to represent the underlying intangible emotion. At least, they definitely do for me. And honestly, the camera is what you use to share your creativity and artistic eye with the world, and those are things you certainly have in common with Jacqueline (not the camera, but the creativity and artistic eye). So it makes sense to me, and isn't shallow and selfish at all.

Steph is, as always, wise.

Jung said that everyone and everything in our dreams is an extension of ourselves. In this case, your camera, might, as Steph says, be about communicating your creativity and artistry on an even deeper level than the physical mechanism and product. (photos capturing actual snapshots in time)

The pain of losing the ability to communicate with Jacqueline in that way is hard on all our hearts, in many variations.

I have never seen you be a reductive thinker Tom, so I wonder if imagining the joy your camera might find on adventures you can't see is possible.

Separately: Yay for Tim agency!

I have a very clear memory of a post Hec wrote, maybe right after "The Body" first aired? About the physical presence of life.

He wrote about his mother dying, and about his son being born, and connected the opposites of what he felt in these life-defining moments. And that post "stayed" with me all those years, so vividly.

Yes, when my mother died I came in and laid my hand on her body, on her chest and felt her stillness. The absence of animating breath. Mortal clay. And when Emmett was born (and also Matilda) I rested my hand on their chests, feeling the rising and falling of their breath, their little hearts that Jacqueline has written so eloquently about.

If you look through enough pictures of me at signal events, you will see me putting my hand on my father's chest at my wedding, or JZ's.