The following entries (from beginning runner to half marathon finisher) represents a continuing journey of tremendous grief and sorrow, and of transformation - largely through the therapeutic power of running. The sorrow that has broken my heart open wide has in time allowed me to experience the beauty of being in the present moment. And of course, without the support of family and friends to guide me, I would not have made it this far.

If you have lost someone in your life, I offer these words and verse (some Kristy's, some mine and others) with the hope it may touch your heart and help you heal.
mailto:clarksonart@gmail.com


Friday, January 16, 2009

THE COUNT


Kristy sits on the sofa with Jack where they watched many movies together

Last night I watched a show on Masterpiece Theater by Charles Dickens entitled Bleak House. It was one Kristy and I had seen many times before. I was reminded again how much she liked this genre of film. But not only did she like Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility and Jane Eyre - she loved all of Clint Eastwood's movies, like Dirty Harry and The Good the Bad and the Ugly. One day she and I watched the Gladiator. Afterwards she went out and bought the CD. She loved movies dealing with issues of fairness, conviction, retribution and ultimate victory over oppression. When the little guy came out on top she was the one cheering the loudest!

One of her favorite books was The Count of Monte Cristo. One year she gave me her old paperback copy. It had been read many times and was in pretty sorry shape. She looked at me and said, "You have no idea how special this book is to me... I want you to have it." I was honored more than I can say. Since then I have read it many times.

A few years later I gave her the Count of Monte Cristo video series which had just come out on PBS. It starred Gerard Depardieu, another favorite. Some days I would walk into the living room and she would be curled up on the sofa with the room all dark - watching intently. These types of movies would always make us both cry. And even though she was "all grown up" she still would watch her Anne of Green Gables.

I was thinking about this today and was reminded of an anecdote I read called "Personal Touch":

Dr. Charles Dickson tells a of man who stopped at a flower shop to have flowers wired to his mother 200 miles away. As he left, he noticed a little girl sobbing on the curb in front of the shop. When he inquired what was wrong, she explained that she wanted to buy a rose for her mother, but it cost $2.00 and she only had 75 cents. He bought the rose for the girl and offered her a ride home. She agreed if he would also take her to her mother. She directed him to a cemetery where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave. The man returned to the flower shop and cancelled the order. Instead, he got in his car and drove 200 miles to his mother's home to personally deliver a bouquet of local flowers.

Time is short. How many chances do we have left?

Today's workout: 7 miles at the lake. It was beautiful and the weather was just right. I was tired and ran slow. I now know better than to eat two bowls of oatmeal and then try to run. But I finished!

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