JG,
It seems like yesterday when we last saw each other. I am sorry I never went to the memorial. I guess I have a hard time saying good-bye - even at the end of a phone call. Ironically I am not one for crowds, and I thought our connection was something far more private.
I am thinking of you today and wanted to write some things.
I can remember the first time we connected, sharing the 'loaf', overlooking the fog entombing the eucalyptus trees from the widow of the Archipelago break-room. We talked about the city and futures at places that should be. You rekindled my passion in the dream of all things community. When I moved to San Francisco, I knew I would see you again, and sure enough you followed not long after.
We were like school yard chums, running about to different corners of the playground, coming back to our sandbox with the myriad of treasures we found. You brought the language and world of transformation to my life and embodied it in physical form. The way you would look at me and how you believed in me, I felt that nothing was outside the bounds of possibility. When our heads conspired with our hearts, we made incredible things happen. You were a perfect partner in crime.
I met you as the fair maiden dazzling all those who would glimpse your golden visage and mesmerizing those who caught your gaze. Wandering the halls with clipboard in hand, a smile on your face. It brought sunshine to those gray foggy Monterey mornings. I will never forget how you would prepare for me jasmine tea curled into tiny orbs and just enough honey to sweeten.
I saw you bloom into a woman standing for women everywhere and challenging all the men you ever met. My image of you, together with the two other most powerful women in my life, SK and my mother, standing resolute in my freedom will forever be a humbling moment and which I can never truly express all my undying gratitude. When I called in desperation for that favor, there was not one quiver, not even an iota of doubt, but just a simple "of course." There have been few men in my life that responded with such conviction.
I saw you as the crone. In those last days with the polished patina worn down. You were elegant and real. Pausing to reflect more- each motion, movement, conversation measured carefully, not wasted. I remember the walk we took down your block, and I felt what it would be like to have grown old together. I am thankful to have spent a lifetime with you.
I most of all remember the times in the sun on a Sonoma ridgetop. We would laugh, love, and play, while scheming about how we were going to change tomorrow. I can still hear your voice telling me "JK I see us on our property and I am walking through the woods and hearing you play the guitar." Whenever I go back to Plantation and I can get a few moments on the steps of High Trees, I play the guitar and think of you and I feel you dancing amongst the redwoods.
So I write again about a vision we shared, and I know that it is not only me writing but that piece of you in me, that will never die.