From the Starlite Room

On the Eve of Ella’s 11th Birthday

•January 11, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Ella-girl,

I have little rituals that help keep you in my world. Whenever I meet a girl your age I always make comparisons, they are getting big! (It’s good for me remind myself that all the little girls your age aren’t gone, cause sometimes it can feel that way.) I always go and touch the girl clothes at the store. I always step in your room when I am at your house. We bring you up casually in conversation, “Ella liked the Care Bears, too.” All that helps with the missing a bit. A very, very little bit.

Posted in Family

Another Birthday Without You

•January 12, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Everything is “another _______ without Ella” now, of course, but your birthday is just the hardest of them all. I had to find something with your date of birth on it to convince myself you would have been 10 this year. I’ve been really struggling with that and the whole age aspect of recognizing your birthdays and then, just as I came to my computer to write about it, I got a message about an update to the caringbridge page of another little girl lost to DIPG whose mother wrote this today…

The most recent question we have encountered has been, do you think of Natalie as being 10 or her chronological age, which would be 13? I wonder. Brian wonders, and I am absolutely sure that her brothers and sisters, and family and friends wonder. I am starting to realize, as I believe that Brian has, is this. We have stumbled head on into the Great Mystery. The Mystery of passing on……we can feel it, it is palpable, and it happened before our eyes. The honor I feel for being present with her when she came in, and as she left her physical body brings forth such intense and deep feelings, indescribable feelings of love and hope and connectedness. There seems to be no age to the true essence of who we are….only Love.

And then suddenly I am released again from another limitation in the way I think of you now and how my relationship with you will continue. Yet again I get a gift on your birthday. Knowing there is nothing more I will be able to give you is tough, really really tough. I had plans, you see… big plans for you and me – aunt and niece, spiritmom and goddaughter. We were gonna have some big fun and there was a lot I was going to give you, show you, tell you, teach you. In the end, of course, it was and still is you who has done the giving, the showing, the telling, and the teaching. Thank you for all that.

I’m not feeling well, so I don’t have more words right now. But it doesn’t mean my heart is any less full of you than it always is.

Posted in Uncategorized

My New Favorite Breakfast

•February 21, 2010 • 2 Comments

Veggie Frittata

Original Recipe:
4 large eggs
2 large egg whites
1 cup baby spinach
2 Tbs. scallions finely chopped
1/4 tsp table salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
cooking spray
1/2 c. shredded cheddar cheese

* Preheat oven to 400°F.

* In a large bowl, beat together eggs and egg whites; stir in spinach, scallion, salt and pepper.

* Coat a 12-inch ovenproof nonstick skillet with cooking spray; heat skillet over medium heat. Pour egg mixture into skillet and cook until partially set, about 5 minutes.

* Sprinkle cheese over eggs. Place skillet in oven and bake until cheese softens and eggs firm up, about 5 minutes. Remove from oven and let stand 1 minute before cutting into 8 wedges. Yields 2 wedges per serving.

For mine, I skipped the spinach and scallions and used what we had in the bin: tomatoes, a little left over yellow bell pepper, baby bella mushrooms, arugula (awesome!) and garlic. I coulda might eaten the whole pan…

Posted in Food

To Ella on the Eve of Her 9th Birthday

•January 11, 2010 • 1 Comment

Dear Ella,

A year like the last passes quickly and slowly. Although things were calm for the most part this year, the anger I feel about living without you is easily called up if I allow my mind to wander certain roads. So I try not to take those exits. It’s been a year of taking things as they come, moving forward, however clumsily or slowly, all the while learning, learning, learning. Two lessons stand out against the rest now.

The first was more of a realization. In thinking about how unbelievable it is that you’re not a part of our day to day lives anymore, I was wondering why, after so many months, had I not begun to really believe that you are gone. Then a voice very clearly told me that it’s because you are not. And you never will be. So I’ve let go of trying to process losing you, because there’s so much of you in my heart and in the hearts of everyone that I love, your presence is still a very real and tangible part of my life.

The second lesson came at Christmas. I tried to prepare myself for whatever the day was to be. I had no expectations, no preconceptions. I only wanted to be with my family and be there for them – particularly your mom and dad – in what ever meager way I could. I take seriously the promise I made to you the last day we were together that I will take care of your mom and dad and be there for them always. But here’s where the joke was on me. That day I saw how it truly is your parents who are taking care of me, of all of us who are grieving for you. As much as they hurt – and I know it’s mammoth iceberg below the tip that the world sees – they continue to give to others. They share their memories of you, they share pictures and videos, they support the cause of ending brain tumors, they take care of themselves, your brother, their home, and their extended families. They continue to move forward, without leaving you behind. They let us know that its ok. That missing you is hard and real and ok. I’m only surprised I didn’t expect this, it’s just so exactly who your parents are.

And I’m sure that in no small part they are who they are because of who you were. The only way to honor the memory of someone like you is to let the light that you gave us shine for all to see. That’s what your mom and dad are doing and that is what I endeavor to do as well. There’s a song that always makes me think of you and always reminds me to approach life as you did…dancing all your days.

Thank you Ella girl, for your example and all the love you left behind. Your light still shines so brightly.

Love, Kirsten

Dancing Daze – The Avett Brothers (click to hear)

I see you dancin’ all your, dancin’ all your, dancin’ all your days
Maybe you can tell me how it is you got that way
Dancin’ all your, dancin’ all your, dancin’ all your days
Come on, come on that’s got to be the way

Posted in Family
Tags: Ella

Let Them Fall Away

•November 18, 2009 • 2 Comments

This afternoon, out of sheer randomness, and listening (of course) to the Avetts, Chris Whitley presented himself strongly in my mind. A few moments later I realized it must be near the anniversary of his death because every year he’s visited me in a similar way, although I couldn’t even tell you even the season he died in if you asked me out of the blue. That will probably change now that I have Ella’s anniversary to connect it to, but still… Chris’s hold on my soul is real and tangible.

My introduction to Chris Whitley was through the Thelma and Louise soundtrack (first CD I ever bought!) and then shortly after I got Living With the Law. That music in no small part helped shape the vision I created of a life out west that was realized when we moved to New Mexico. His music was so evocative of sparse landscapes, open roads, and, yes, big skies. As his music evolved he became singularly gifted in expressing regret, longing, reconciliation, and the glory in the anguish of such feelings through lyrics and musical phrasing. It would be an understatement to say I’ve ever seen anyone play (steel guitar and stomp board) the way he played; it was nothing short of astonishing. The joy in seeing Chris play was as much in his gentle nature, his charismatic presence, and the depth of honest expression as it was in the music itself.

As time went on Chris’s art became almost too astonishing, more than I could wrap my head around at times. But it was at those times when Jim became totally engrossed. The more abstract Chris’s music became, the more inspired Jim was. I had introduced Jim to Chris’s music when I took him to see him play at the 400 Bar in, like ’93 or ’94 -this was before I was seeing live music regularly and, really, one of the major reasons I started to make it a habit – and for Jim it was love at first listen. About 3 songs in to the show he turned to me and said “We have to come back tomorrow night!” Jim quickly replaced me as the biggest fan in the family. Jim’s love for Chris was such that, in one attempt to meet Chris, he ended up frightening him back into the backstage area of the Fine Line …but I’ll let Jim tell that story…

Jim’s love for Chris was also such that when I read the news late one night on a message board that he had passed I knew I needed to wake Jim to tell him, just as I would if we’d lost a member of our family. We knew Chris wasn’t long for this world, based on his brilliance alone, not to mention his general well being, but it didn’t make losing him any less painful. Thank you Chris, for the music, the example, and for keeping such a strong hold on my heart.

Dirt Floor – Chris Whitley

There’s a dirt floor underneath here
To receive us when changes fail
May this shovel loose your trouble
Let them fall away

Well the mist shall be your blanket
While the moss shall ease your head
As the future is soon forgotten
As the dirt shall be your bed

There’s a dirt floor underneath here
To receive us when changes fail
May this shovel loose your trouble
Let them fall away

Posted in Music

Recovered Memories

•October 23, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Slowly the bits and pieces of exactly what was said to whom when we met Scott and Seth are returning to us. Jim was so starstruck by Scott hugging him he had completely forgotten what he’d said to Scott that prompted him to hug him. Turns out it was an exchange about being near the stage that night and experiencing their energy so close up and marveling at how much it affected him and finally saying that there was just so much love in it, at which point Scott just got “a look” and grabbed Jim and hugged him. For me I remembered that after Seth hugged me, groping for something to converse about, he asked if we were from Madison and I said no, we came down from Minneapolis and that was what led me to telling him about what a great time we had following them around Colorado. Actually I said, “I have to thank you for the best vacation ever. We followed you around Colorado and it was the best time.” He said, “This summer? Oh, it’s so beautiful there, isn’t it?” And then I proceed to tell him about what we’d witnessed in Steamboat.

Posted in Avett Brothers
Tags: Avett Brothers

Avett Brothers in Madison

•October 22, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Stream of thought recall of one of the top ten best days of my life…

Got to Madison just in time to check in at the Hotel Ruby Marie. Love that little hotel and all it’s restored vintage charm. Headed straight to the Barrymore. Lovely, warm fall night. Great for a walk through one of Madison’s east side neighborhoods as we made our way to the venue. Got there just after the doors opened. Were not frisked or warned of bodily harm if we used flash cameras (didn’t bring it anyway). Got beers bought swag (shirt for B, stickers and pins). Proceeded to the floor. Mostly seated but pit area was standing. Found a spot about 6 ft from stage, right between Scott and Seth, it would turn out. Chatted with J. Enjoyed Nicole Atkins (opener) thoroughly. Best Avett opener yet. Avetts come on, start with Go To Sleep/Solomon. Energy is great right away. Crowd is PERFECT! All there to really see the show, but not rabid fans (not a red-n-white baseball jersey in the place). Very in to it and very quiet during the ballads. Really, best Avett crowd ever. Lots of stuff from I&L&U, all performed so well, though I’d say I&L&U itself was a low moment. They didn’t seem into it really, especially in comparison to how into the rest of the performance they were. Think I left my body during Laundry Room. They killed on Slight Figure of Speech. And J was over the moon to hear Perfect Space, he loves it so much. Mid-show about three girls used their liquid courage and stormed into the 4.5 inches in front of me and the folks to my right and left. Did my best to inconvenience the one in front of me with my screams recalling how badly it had made me want to leave my spot in Boulder. Girl to my left was finally ousted by folks around her telling her she was unwelcome. Girl in front of me left when *gasp* a couple pushed in, in front of her (oh, the irony). Proceed to be whapped in the face by dreds of dude of said couple. This only made me laugh. Set list was highlighted by A Lot of Movin’ and show-closer Four Theives Gone. Seth was brill on Tear Down The House and I always love to hear a song from Bob – tonight 40 East. Did not want to leave when it was over. Out in the lobby stopped at Nicole Atkins table. J was an immediate hit with them as he was wearing a shirt that referenced a Rob Zombie movie the keyboard player recognized. I told Nicole she was the best Avett opener I’ve seen and she told me she went to college with them. I said I heard she brought them to NY which she confirmed…said that first show was the Avetts, her, Langhorn Slim and/or Pale Face and Regina Spektor in the back of a restaurant. I told her she would go down in the mythology of TAB. She was just sweet and terrific. Bought her disc. On the way back to the car saw a group of about 12 people waiting at the bus. J wanted to see if they would come out. I said I wasn’t so sure, thought I’d make a fool of myself if I were to meet them…about 10 minutes later that prophecy was self-fulfilled. Half a second after security guy says the band is not coming out to sign, the bus door opens and Seth walks out followed a minute or so later by the rest of the band. Shook everyone’s hand. Seth talked to J a moment or two and then passed by me to talk to someone else. Scott came up to me, looking me square in the eyes like we were old friends. I have literally no idea what I said, or if I even spoke. I just remember looking into his soft dark eyes. It was crazy. Then he turned to J and said, “Hey, man!! Thanks for coming out!” Again, just like he and totally knew Jim. J chatted him up as well, but I didn’t hear it all because Seth came back to me, all apologetic that he’d passed me by before (can you believe these guys?!). At this point, I kind of lose it and start getting teary. Since Seth, like Scott is looking me square in the eyes, he sees it and says, “Oh, man. You’re so sweet. Come here…” and hugs me. At nearly the same moment, Scott is hugging J for something he has said. We’ve both entered nirvana. I compose myself long enough to tell Seth how much I enjoyed seeing them in Colorado and how fun it was to see them win over Steamboat (almost fell into Jim/Dave Pirner mistake, but I pulled out of the crash). I swear either of them would have stood and talked to us for as long as we had something to say, they were that present. J and I floated back to the car and spent the next couple hours talking over beers at the Up North Saloon about meeting them and what this music has become to us. That conversation was as priceless as the show and the meeting afterward.

Music is as much a blessing to me as are my family and friends. It’s as simple as that.

Posted in Avett Brothers, Family, Music
Tags: Avett Brothers

More About the Avetts

•October 18, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Going to Madison on Wednesday to see the Avetts for the 5th time this year. Counting the minutes…

When I was in the thick of my interest in Springsteen I felt mighty sorry for myself for not having been there in ’78 when Bruce was putting on the shows that inspired Jon Landau to call him the future of rock n roll. I’ve been telling people recently though that I no longer have those regrets. I have no doubt that what the Avetts are doing now is no less passionate, awe-inspiring, or legendary than what Bruce did back then. In fact, if I were given the choice of seeing the Avetts of the last few years or Bruce in his heyday I wouldn’t skip a beat in choosing the Avetts. For real. Their live show absolutely blows away any of the hundreds of other acts I’ve seen (including Soul Asylum in the early 90’s) and, at the very least, rivals the videos I’ve seen of those ’78 Springsteen shows.

My 17 year old self would be shocked and appalled, I’m sure. And this reinforces my point… OF COURSE I was obsessed with Springsteen at 17…I was se-ven-teen!! It’s obligatory to be obsessed with a band at that age. But, to be a 41 year old woman and be as obsessed as I was when I was 17 kind of speaks for itself. True, I’ve never lost my passion for music, but this level of obsession is not something I’ve experienced in that many years. I feel very much like the middle-aged woman in the movie who falls in love and says, “I didn’t know I was still capable of feeling this way.” Happily, I’m not a former Dynasty star in a Lifetime movie. I’m just a girl so in love with a band that she’s forgotten that she’s not supposed to have musical crushes anymore…

Posted in Avett Brothers, Music
Tags: Avett Brothers

My clumsy, but heartfelt, ode to the Avetts

•September 8, 2009 • 1 Comment

“Talking about music is like talking about sex. Can you describe it? Should you even try?”

-Bruce Springsteen

Thank you, Bruce, for giving me an excuse to utterly suck at writing about music. It possibly cannot be described and I probably shouldn’t even try.

But I really want to talk about music and, right now in particular, I really, REALLY want to talk about the music that is constantly playing either in my car, on my ipod, or in my head…the music that I followed 1700 miles, roundtrip, spent a good few hundred dollars on and am dying, just DYING to experience again as soon as possible. It’s the music The Avett Brothers are making.

I really want to do it justice, but that would mean finding words that are as simple, honest, and poetic as theirs and I am not up to the task. But that’s so much of what fuels a fan’s passion -fuels my passion- for a band, and that is seeing and hearing someone call out a feeling, a moment, an experience and give it a name that no one’s heard before. The perfection of that is so thrilling. And when it’s done not just with words but with tone and breath and beat and ache… it captures life in a way that the most central part of me recognizes, but cannot itself name.

Though any and every review of an Avett show centers on the band’s energy and intensity (“muppet-like” in one review), I defy that as the sole indicator of this band’s power. I’ve seen tons of musicians give super high-energy performances…performances where they clearly left their hearts and souls on the stage. They were great, memorable shows, to be sure, but they did not fuel the kind of obsession I (and many other Avett fans) are experiencing now. And equally, I have seen far less energetic shows that have resulted in a similar obsession.

So what’s the difference? The difference is what happens to my heart, and here are the examples: Ryan absolutely, completely, and totally broke my heart. Bruce seems to know my heart and has, on countless occasions, healed it. Now the Avetts have stopped my heart, and restarted it in time with their own. And it was inevitable given what kind of band they are and what kind of fan I am… I was a goner the moment I stepped into that first show, just like pretty much everyone else who steps into an Avett show.