Last Post; Parting Gifts

I'm sorry, that's a macabre pun, in British, at least. "Last Post" is the tune military bands play to honor the war dead. I'm at the Anchorage library wrapping up some editing jobs by the skin of my teeth, sending all-too-rough work for our MFA residency workshops in August prematurely, perforce; and taking a moment to give this beloved corner of my world some attention. 


Rather than focus on "last", I want to focus on gifts. So many gifts of loving words, thoughts, prayers, promises to write me, expressions of appreciation for my existence. So much treasure. I'm semi-consciously storing it up for the hard work to come, acutely aware that at this moment, I can barely take it in. Since my ticket was booked (only last Friday!), my busyness level has accelerated almost beyond what it was at semester's end, and I was ready to crash back then. So naturally, caffeine is back in the equation, sleep is largely gone, food intake likewise. But this time tomorrow, all the busyness will have been set aside and I'll be focused, full-time initially, on my health situation. I'll finally be facing how serious everyone says it is. And then, the gifts will sustain me.


Some non-verbal gifts also: I'm so happy to have seen Homer's first farmers' market of the year on Saturday. It's somewhat of a craft fair too, and one of our favorite artists was there in the rain. Scott Miller creates "wooden diamonds"--pendants made from salvaged wood, oyster and mussel shells, silver and other metals, and other salvaged, donated or scavenged items. Every 'diamond' is unique. Phil wanted to get me one as a parting gift, and I chose this one (which would have been his choice too, it turns out): 

Waterfall, as if from a bluff like ours; a tree; stars. It's so beautiful, so me, so expressive of our home. 
In the photo, it's sitting on a gorgeous blank journal another friend gifted me--always a perfect gift for me, and in my color too. Here it is again, below left, together with books given, loaned, or recommended me by writer friends.

I am taking good companions on my way with me. I'll stop there--I don't have a lot more to say, as I venture into the unknown. Except, what gift can I leave? The promise of more words, more love; the insight that life itself is a gift, although its time is beyond our control.

I will miss this blog, and all of you, so much. I promise I'll update when I can.
Much love,
Ela