Sing with the angels, Leifwynn



He was one of my "nephews," one of those six precious boy babies born to our community of friends in 1978. My own beloved son, Luke, arrived in February of that year. All of us mothers have delighted in our sweet sons, as infants, as growing boys, and as men. Now one has passed, our bright, beautiful, gifted musician, Leif Martin Rego, "Leifwynn." His beauty was surpassed only by his musical gifts and his glory in the natural world. I join his incredible, loving family (mother Carol, father Philip and brother Daniel) in mourning the loss of this one so dear. The grace in this is that Leif has no more struggles on this earth, though his loss leaves a huge hole in his family's heart and in the widespread communty of friends and musicians that he inhabited. May abundant healing blessings come to his family and to all who now miss his presence here. Leif's mother, my dear friend Carol, is a longtime devotee of Meher Baba, Indian mystic and spiritual master. In that spirit, I offer in Leif's honor this comforting poem written by Meher Baba.

The Final Account

When the goal of life is attained, one achieves

the reparation of all wrongs,

the healing of all wounds,

the righting of all failures,

the sweetening of all sufferings,

the relaxation of all strivings,

the harmonizing of all strife,

the unraveling of all enigmas,

and the real and full meaning of all life —

past, present and future.

Funny faces, strawberry hearts and fairy houses



I used to hear friends talk about how wonderful it was to have grandchildren. I've always loved babies and children, but I couldn't understand the gift of these children of our children until I had some myself. Our wonderful, smart, happy grandkids -- all eight of them -- have filled me with an ineffable sense of happiness and the goodness of life. They give me the opportunity to get to know this precious flesh of my flesh (and of my husband's flesh), two generations down. They offer the chance to reset mothering mode into that of grandmothering, to do what I can to serve them, these beloved munchkins. Plus -- a BIG plus -- they are so much fun!

One of the very best things the grandkids do is give me "legitimate" entre into a world that, truth be told, I never left after I grew up. Here's how it goes: Mixed up with the French toast and fruit for breakfast is a strawberry that is actually a beautiful red heart. Making funny faces is, well, it's just funny. Gazing into a handheld mirror is the most fascinating thing. Way-too-big crocs are clown shoes, just right for getting a big laugh. And building a fairy house of sticks, shells, sparkly rocks, moss, great big hosta leaves and a little yellow dandelion flower is special, magical fun.

On Friday night Amelia and Isaac spent the night with us so their parents could have a wonderful meal out with friends at Lantern and then a rare leisurely Saturday morning. While Luke and Susannah had a social night out and a relaxing morning, we had the fun, pleasure and busyness of Amelia and Isaac's company. I am a lucky woman indeed.