All that matters is the love

Thanks to Cristina’s persistence and care in keeping all the relevant papers, and her nerve in driving up to Seattle to press her case at the passport office, the children now have passports. I took Felix to the kennel this morning and watched him cheerfully trot toward his place there, waving his tail in brief farewell. “Tookie”/Clare picked me up from the kids’ house, brought me home, and stayed for a tall glass of ice water and stories. 

In this blip Clare is sitting at my table, holding a collection of portraits, looking at my photograph of another blipper, LaurieT (who seldom posts but often leaves stars and hearts). What do we really have in life but our loves and our stories? I told Clare stories about Palesa, who died two years ago today. Clare listened and witnessed that history, that love. Clare’s receiving was rich and generous. The stories are warm and heartening. It was a fine afternoon. 

I just got a text from Cristina: they’re home and packing for Greece. Soon they will see Seth in person, feel his big hugs, and have a grand adventure by the Aegean Sea, heat dome and all. Thanks to “Tivoli,” they know how to say “Thank you” in Greek: “A fairy’s toe.” All three of them practiced saying it, and I told them I want to hear stories when they come home.

Today I am thinking about Palesa, and I am remembering a theatre person I have admired for many years: Ellen Stewart. She was dubbed “the single most important figure in the history of American avant-garde theater and performance art,” but when she retired and people asked her what she thought was her most important legacy, she answered, “All that mattered was the love.”