The Holiday Letter you have been waiting for…..

CF Christmas letter, December 2017:  “I saw an owl on my L.A. street recently.  Then I also saw a bobcat in my driveway in Santa Fe 2 days ago.  Both times, we stared at each other for a long moment before they flew/ran away into the twilight.  My two animal guides for 2018? (Text your thoughts to 323-533-3246).”

Anyone figure it out?  I assume one or both, probably the owl totem, signify impending death.  At least in some Native American cultures they do.  And of course Dennis had traveled the red road in his 50s.  He could not pass a stray feather without meditating on it for a few moments, and then rescuing it. I still find feathers tucked in the pages of a book, or in his wallet.  An eagle feather has hung over the entrance to our house for 18 years.

The owl on San Rafael Ave (on our hill) stared a hole through me until I got out of my car to try to photograph her.  I didn’t know what it was at first.  But it was unmistakable as it flew away, the huge wingspan a dramatic exit.

As you know, three weeks after marking the new year, Dennis was called away.  In March we celebrated his earthly life, and many people were lined up on the stage of the DGA theater (the big one) to tell us about how he affected theirs.  An unexpected outcome was a running theme in all of the stories.  And the many letters, cards, emails and other tributes were notably similar.  Dennis sold them an idea — to believe in their own possibilities.  If I had a nickel for every person who told me Dennis gave them their first job, or convinced them to take a crazy leap of faith.  He was an agent for positive change and self-action.  He lived by that example.  People came to me with not only stories, but with props… trophies of their achievements that they felt Dennis was owed some credit for.

Several friends told me at the memorial, after listening to the stories, it made them want to be a better person.  Or made them think about what they could do now, today.

I am incredibly sad at the loss of Dennis.  My heart breaks every day.  But I am the luckiest, most privileged person to be charged with interpreting his short time here, and to be the recipient of gratitude from so many.  Dennis always said he really wanted to make the difference.  In a person, helping the first time director make the days, preserving the Hopi language with a radio station, or even talking to a swing voter in Ohio or Virginia.  No question he made that difference.  He liked to talk to people and he could be persuasive.  Perhaps that’s why he was the real master of the art of the deal.  He loved to talk to people.

And obviously, he gave me the greatest gift of all… our incredible kids, Nell and Sam, who have demonstrated grace and strength on their journey, and compassion for me on mine.

My “new normal” in the new year of 2018 became crying whenever it struck me and having literally no filter.  People just got used to it.  In July, I finally got away from L.A. for a stretch of time. The first week was spent at a rustic cabin at Waimea Canyon on Kauai, with my kids, their cousin Matt, and Susan and Leslie – my old San Francisco roommates from 1980-82 — under the same roof once again.

The first night I was there I had a vivid dream of a living, spunky, impish, naked Dennis.  I embraced him, and told him that I had had a terrible nightmare that he had died. He said, almost being silly, that it was true. I asked him if he would come back, please.  But he said no (not so silly now).  The world is too troubled a place right now – not a good time.  I asked if I could come to where he was.  If it could be done without harming our kids.  And then I woke up.  I cried the whole week in the cabin after that dream.

And indeed the world is so troubled.  I know everyone is freaked out about what’s going to happen.  I guess as I see it, when the world inches forward with some progress, there is such a violent backlash from people who are so attached to their comfort zone – their hatred.  It’s discouraging.  What can a person do?  How do we carry on?  Why even celebrate Christmas when we can’t keep it in our hearts for more than a day?

And I guess what you can do is look for the small things (going all Forest Gump here).  I am still flabbergasted by the number of friends that came to help us.  That still come to help, even as I write this.  When the news got out about what was happening, within hours, people were on planes, by our sides, by Dennis’ bedside, sleeping on the floor of our house.  An invasion of people began that lasted weeks and months. How is it possible that there is so much love and kindness and goodness in the friends, neighbors, and communities we found ourselves in?  It’s extraordinary and it helped.  Every freakin’ ride for my daughter, every lasagna, every text… you know who you are.  There were literally hundreds of you.  And there were thousands of gestures that I will never be able to repay.  But silly, the greatest gift perhaps is finding out how loved we are, and that despite all of the shit in the world today, people really are wired to be good.  If I am wrong, then at least I know that Dennis, Sam, Nell and I have chosen the best people to be among us.

Now, the Bobcat.

The bobcat animal totem is also about creation, and developing our abilities into a higher level of value. Additionally, the bobcat is also about the unseen and silent aspects of our inner selves.  The bobcat encourages us to delve deep into our hearts and minds and shed light on our potential.  To leap out of hiding and show our power to the world. (This is a mash up of what I learned by googling.)  The bobcat stared me down on around Dec 28… which is one year ago today.

Dennis was not perfect by any stretch, but if anyone lived the significance of a bobcat totem, it was him.  And so I think this is how I will go forward, and will be my message for 2019.  Delve into your hearts and minds my friends.  Realize your potential.  Dennis would want you to.  He wants all of you to know that you can do it.  Don’t hesitate.  Begin.

 

Lastly, the best Christmas gift you can get…

Our family got very close this past year.  Every cousin, niece, and nephew.  But especially with Dennis’ adult children, Chance and Ryan, and their families. Because of everything, we have seen quite a bit of them all year.  This Christmas we got a very special gift from Dennis’ three grandchildren: we got to do Christmas for the first time, and we converged in Santa Fe. And yes we had a white Christmas.

We taught the kids to ski (they all did great).  Honor and I rode the chair lift while it snowed, and I watched Dennis’ 7-year old granddaughter catching snowflakes on her tongue.

Grandson Ellis turned 10 yesterday, so we took him to Cowgirl Café (our Santa Fe tradition) where everyone did charades, then returned home for a board game.  Both of my kids have taken ownership of their roles and aunt and uncle to Carter, Ellis and Honor.  And in turn they are very much looking after us too.  After the kids went to bed, 18 year-old Sam, who lost his father 11 months ago, said to me, smiling: “You know, Mom, the best Christmas gift you can get is an experience…”  Indeed.

Till next year.

PS. Past letters will be posted at https://peanutgallery.blog/

PPS. Memorial videos can be viewed at https://vimeo.com/manage/folders/289679