Sweet Grace: From the journal pages of Furls Fire

[Jordan]

I've come to believe things that don't make sense. Not in any sense that makes the world what it is. My brothers and I were working at the Habitat site, the last day, the house is all done, and i looked over toward the end of the street and saw a woman standing on the sidewalk. I tapped Ryan on the shoulder and pointed. He looked and smiled and said "Mom."

I stared as he leaned forward and tapped Tristan on the shoulder. And he looked and said "Mom." Keeping the woman in our sights, we went in search of Micah and Dad. When we found them, they were already staring at the woman. She waved at us, turned and walked away, disappeared around the corner. That's when the doves came and landed on the roof of the new house.

The family gets to move into it next weekend. Can't tell you all how it makes me and my brothers feel to know that were a part of helping these people. And it's all because of Aunt Tracie, what she and Dad have instilled in us. Nothing compares to this feeling.

[aliantha]

Jordan: What a wonderful thing you guys have done.

[Menolly]

Thank you for sharing that with us, Jordan.

Furls will always be missed, and these glimpses the family shares soothes us all.

[Fire Daughter]

Mom is always around. She's like a warm blanket on a chilly night, a melody just on the edge of hearing, a prayer softly spoken by the dim light of a candle, the fragrance of the forest after it rains. She is everywhere, in everything.

I feel her by me right now.

[Fire Daughter]

I'm doing this today because I don't think I'll have the strength to do it tomorrow.

My heart breaks...I miss her so much. And I know, oh I know she would want us to celebrate her life on this day. But, Mom...you have to understand, that even though I feel you, and hear you, and sometimes even see you every day since you've been gone; it is so, so so so so so not the same as having you "walking the world" beside us, beside me. I may be selfish, but my life, with everything beautiful that is happening in it right now, is less without you.

So much less...

You were and always will be my anchor, my strength, my constant in the chaos. Living without you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But, I know I would not be your daughter if I didn't make my life as glorious as you made yours.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you. I miss you.

From Uncle Stephen...

[Stephen C]

October 10, 1993 11:52pm

My sister, my beautiful Tracie turned 30 today. I went to Atherton to see her, stopping along the way to gather certain objects that I knew she would like; a music box, an angel figurine, and a chocolate brownie from her favorite bakery. When I entered her house, she was sitting in her rocking chair by the large picture window that overlooks her back yard. The early autumn sun shining in her hair and for a moment, her spirit glowed beyond flesh, beyond earth. In her arms, she held her daughters, singing gently to them. They are sick, both have colds and ear infections, she had been up all night. And yet, when she saw me, her face lit up and her eyes sparkled. I moved in quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping children she cuddled.

“Happy Birthday.” I whispered as I knelt beside the chair.

“Is it?” Her smile turned ironic. “So, that is what Russ said to me as he was leaving this morning.”

I laughed. “Ah, the days and nights slide along within themselves when you are a mother of small children.”

“That they do.” Her eyes closed in weariness then and she laid her head back against the rocker. “So, did you bring me chocolate?”

“Of course.”

Lifting her head, she gazed at me expectantly. I opened the small bag from the bakery and took out the brownie. Brooke and Heidi woke up then, she smiled as they both blinked up at her. “Look.” She said to them. “Uncle Steve brought you both a treat.” She nodded at me. I broke the brownie in half and gave it to the girls. They squealed and began chewing. “No better medicine than chocolate.” Tracie chuckled. I leaned forward and kissed my nieces and then kissed her.

On the drive back to my apartment tonight, I thought about her beauty, her radiant spirit and what a gift the Lord bequeathed us on this day in 1963. Thirty years, thirty glorious years my sweet sister has graced the world with her presence. Where ever she walks, light follows, joy follows, peace follows. My sister, who exists beyond the flesh, beyond transience, makes her way through the world with unyielding strength, with the capacity to wield love without effort. She doles it out like candy. How blessed am I, how blessed are we, her family, to be the ones walking beside her as she trods the paths laid before her.

Ah Father, there are no words adequate to thank You for the gift of Tracie into our lives. How are we worthy? For she is the beacon in the darkness, the love that breaks down the barriers. My sweet sweet sister, our Angel, our peace, our joy. We watch and learn and stand in utter awe of her.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent. –Lord Byron

Happy Birthday my beautiful Tracie. May God bestow you with the gifts He gave to us on the day you were born. Love you, sister mine. Love you.

[Fist and Faith]

That's a great scene!! So very well painted!

[Fire Daughter]

I don't remember it, I was three, Heidi was not quite a year and half. I loved the way Uncle Steve described the way the autumn sun shone on Mom.

I remember other birthdays tho. So many beautiful memories.

[Furls Fire]

Thursday, April 29 1999, 11:59pm

Here, at midnight, I watch as the day fades, making way for another. Here the clock ticks the seconds to the past, adds these to the many that came before. The big grandfather begins to chime them out, no wait, more like gong them out, shattering silence. For some reason, the sound fills the quiet house with sorrow, loss. I don’t know what it is tonight, I don’t know why I feel such oppressive doom closing in.

Midnight passes, the gonging ceases and a new day begins, yet, somehow, I mourn, literally mourn the passing of the old one as the last echoing of the grandfather’s gong dwindles. Nothing of it remains except for the quiet tick tock of the pendulum, and the scrape of my pen along the paper. There is a cold wisdom in this I suppose, though now, here, it eludes me. Some dark secret plays with my mind as weariness eases its way into me. The house seems cold, darker and the pendulum is irritating in its relentless ticking away of precious time. I glance out at the dark trees, no moon illuminates the snowy mantle, the sky sags with overcast, concealing the stars. Sweet mercy, what is it? What makes this night so…ah, I can’t find the right word. Is it

Friday, April 30 1999 2:18am

Ah, I knew the phone was about to ring mere ticks of the grandfather before it did. I knew then. Stephen. My beautiful Stephen.

“Tracie, I’m cold tonight.”

“I’ll send you a blanket.” Was my first response. He, of course, laughed that beautiful laugh of his, and I could envision the tension leaving him, I could see in my mind’s eye his brilliant smile. “Why are you so cold?” Normal answers to this question would have been the heater isn’t working, or it’s the rain, the dampness, the wind is blowing…but for Stephen, simple or normal, just aren’t, well for lack of a better word, normal.

“It’s the night itself. It’s consuming the warmth, the light. The sky is so close, suffocating. The air is unbreathable. It’s cold. Bone chilling cold. Tell me you understand…”

“I do, because I’m feeling it too.” I sighed into the receiver. “You need to come here, Stephen. Something is happening. Something is very wrong. Something is darkening the very light we live in.”

“My illness.” He breathed into my ear more than spoke.

“It begins.” I whispered back. “We’ll fight it together.”

“A battle, I fear, that will end with the end of me.”

“No. Stephen, no matter what happens, you, beautiful you, will never end. Never.”

I heard choking sobs, I heard him, felt him wrap his arms around himself. “I’m so cold, Tracie.” His voice sounding distant as the whirl of the winds began.

“Get on the next plane, Stephen. We’ll meet you in Portland.”

And so, this new day begins in a darkness so familiar, so cold. Yet, I slowly feel a warmth seeping through the chill, I see a break in the dark clouds above the trees, a star winks down as though trying to tell me that even though the war begins, many battles will be won, small victories are blessings. My brother comes to me. He comes. I look around the quiet house just as the grandfather chimes out the brief tone at the half hour. 2:30am. The time still flies away from us. Precious time, losing the seconds to the pendulum as it slowly moves back and forth. Back and forth.

[Fire Daughter]

I posted that, because for some reason, last night was just like that for me. Maybe it's because winter is knocking on our door, and the memories of last winter are still so fresh in our hearts and minds. A sorrow lays over everything, the first anniversary is creeping up on us, and time...as Mom says it so well...precious time slips away so fast...

[Harley Guy]

I don't sleep much these nights. I've taken to wandering the house late at night. It's hard to be in our room without her. I think about the coming holiday season, how she made it all so wonderful, and knowing that this year it won't be that way. Oh yeah, we'll try to make it that way, but deep down, I know it's not going to be. How can it be? Without her.

But, today, just a little while ago, I found our son, Stevie sitting on the rail of the deck just outside our bedroom. He was leaning against the wall of the house and staring up at the sky. I told him he should come in because it was starting to rain. And he said, without looking at me. "Daddy, we shouldn't be sad, Mommy likes flying."

[Menolly]

Wondrous...
B"H for Stevie and his insight.
Much strength and prayers for all of you aimed towards the mountain.


Or as Furls would say...
Huggles...

[Fist and Faith]

Amazing what a change of seasons can do to us. Even without Tracie, your house will be filled with more love this holiday season than most people get in an average decade. It won't make the loss go away. It won't even distract you from her absence. But you will hold each other up.

[Savor Dam]

Brooke, Russ, thank you for coming back to us even when you feel the shadow of Tracie's absence more acutely than the warmth of her continued (albeit indirect) presence. We are honored!

Stevie's vision is indeed a wonder. Thanks too for sharing what he had to say. Each of you is a conduit for the Light and Strength of her Love. That he has less getting in the way of that is an inspiration to all, as it surely must be to you.

Hang in there. We are always here to offer what we can. For you and for her, we can do no less!

[Fire Daughter]

"We meet again the souls lost to us in life, and they are more than familiar, they embody the love and light of the Lord. That, is heaven."

[Cambo]

I feel very hesitant posting on this thread. I did not know Furl Falls and do not know any of you yet. This is obviously a very personal topic, and I hope no-one feels that a stranger is invading their privacy.

But I feel compelled to share with you how deeply moved I have been by everything I have read here. Only a few days after finding the watch, only a day after joining, I find myself with tears running down my face and my heart put through a wringer. I could have never imagined this would happen, but I am glad.

I had read some of Furl Falls' posts on old forums before finding this thread, having no idea she had passed away. She was one of many people I was especially looking forward to interacting with, and after reading what is written here, I feel deeply regretful I will never get the chance. It's like grieving for somebody I never knew. (I feel especially doubtful about putting this part in, I have not earned the right to grieve as you all have, and I am terrified of giving insult. But the spirit of this thread compels me to share as honestly as I can.)

I hope it is some comfort to you that your beloved Furl even in death has the power to touch a person and change their lives. Through her writings, and the writings of others about her, she has affirmed some of my deepest, most dearly held perceptions about life: Love, Faith, Strength in the Face of Suffering. Through this touch, she has become one of the people who have made my life a little bit more worth living. As long as this thread remains up, I am sure I will not be the last. Furl has a living legacy in the hearts of all who read these posts.

Unwittingly, I chose a signature that fits the context of this thread. I will post the rest of this song, and remind you that, like the moon, we all shine with the lights of those we encounter, and that the source of those lights is indeed Bright and Endless. Furl's light shines on in all of you.

I have come curiously close to the end, down
beneath my self indulgent pitiful hole
Defeated and conceited, I move closer
I may find comfort here
I may find peace within the emptiness- How pitiful

It's calling me...

In my darkest moment- fetal and weeping
The moon tells me a secret- my confidant
"As full and bright as I am
This light is not my own and
A million bright reflections
Pass over me."

Her source is bright and endless, she
Resuscitates the hopeless
Without her, we are lifeless satellites
Drifting...

And as I pull my head out,
I am without one doubt
Don't wanna be down here,
Soothing my narcissism, I
Must crucify the ego,
Before it's far too late,
And pray the light lifts me out

Before I pine away...

So crucify the ego, before it's far too late
And leave behind this place,
So negative and blind and cycnical
And you will come to find
That we are all One Mind,
Capable of all that's imagined,
And all conceivable
Just let the light touch you,
And let the words spill through
And let them pass right through
Bringing out our hope and reason

[Fire Daughter]

Cambo, first let me say welcome to my mother's journal thread. No one intrudes here. Mom loved it when new people would come to Uncle Steve's thread and post for the first time. I believe that she would love that happening in this one as well.

She is all over the Watch, but it was in here, The Hall of Gifts, that she spent alot of time. Yet, no matter where you go on the Watch, you'll find her. So, getting to know her should be easy. How she was on here is how she was in life. Always full of love, always full of strength...her spirit was/is glorious.

love lives here

[Cambo]

Thank you for your welcome, Fire Daughter. I will certainly keep my eyes open for your mothers posts around the Watch. I look forward to getting to know her better. The Watch is shaping up to be a place of greater depth of spirit and emotion than I could have imagined. I feel honoured and priviledged to be welcomed into this community

[Jordan]

Cool to see you here, Cambo. Like Brooke said, our mother would have loved it.

I came on to share something my little brother showed me.

"Jory, look what I wrote for Mommy..."

I sang a song for you
Did you hear it, Mommy?
Of flying and dancing
Below and above the sky.
And when it was done
I said a prayer for you
Did God hear it, Mommy?
Of love and hope
And all things holy
Of you. --Stephen Isaiah McKinney-Hammon 2010 6 years old.

So, yeah. Stevie is something special.

[Fire Daughter]

All I can do is smile. He astounds us.