It is odd what jogs pain in us some days. I see the words the "great Bill Graham" on another blog, and my heart sobs.
Life is complex as we know. A lovely man, Steve Kahn, flew the helicopter on which Bill Graham, Graham's girlfriend and Steve died. Steve taught me how to mountain bike safely down Mt. Tam. I felt he was a safe pilot and so have mixed feelings on Bill Graham and what he may have demanded that night as to flying under dire conditions. Steve left a wife. We are all complex, and Bill Graham especially so.
The outpouring of grief was for Bill Graham, the better known man, and yet, I will never forget the patience of Steve as he guided me safely down Mt. Tam, showing me where to brake and let go. We came down from the West Point Inn and then emerged into open grasslands as we flew down out of Pantoll and in to Muir Woods.
When I see Bill Graham's name, the tragedy of Steve's death hits me like an arrow in the heart.
I bought some primroses today and cyclamen. I needed some color, inside the house and out, so chose an array of yellow, white, purple, and pink for the primroses, and different colors of pinks, red and white for the cyclamen. I also spread some bark and rearranged stones disrupted with the tree cutting. I feel a deep reverence for my space, a care-giving role today.
The sun sets soon, and I am already digesting the importance of today and tomorrow, the hover and return. Today is a break in rain day with a definite beckoning outside. For now, I am again tucked and books are requesting that their pages turn and words expose to light.