Kevin's Watch

Oh my, sorry all. A moment of inner reflection kind of spilled out there. Please don't run and get any nets. I'm really not going insane...

At least I don't think I am...

I suppose the ones who are truly insane don't worry about it.

*wonders if she should be comforted by that...*

Oh my, the thread has been so quiet...I just realized that the last time I posted anything in here was back in April.

Sorry everyone, I will post the rest of Stephen's entry about Joe soon. Just need to type it up.

Furls wrote:apocolypic visions

Dang what a trade off! I haven't had any apocalyptic (spelled right ) dreams since I took a train ride through hell (which just happened to be Jersey City in the future) in 88. The only one I had before or after was having to "Hammer" throw an a-bomb at an amusement park when I was 14 (damm that puberty!). Needless to say there was quite an explosion when it landed! Take your time typing--take it easy--we (I most especially!!! **contemplates writing Oprah about Tracie's life for the 8th time**) love you!

danlo wrote:...we (I most especially!!! **contemplates writing Oprah about Tracie's life for the 8th time**) love you!

Dream on, monkey boy! I love her best! It is known.

Okay boys, there's enough love to go around

Okay everyone, I know it's been a very long time since I put up a journal entry. Here is a short one, but I thought you all would enjoy it.

I have no idea what concert this was, he went to so many...

Ah! The ultimate high!

December 3, 1998 9:32pm

I write now overcome in the rise of a symphonic climax. The atmosphere is charged with an energy so intense the vaults and balconies of the theater waver and tremble as the crescendo swells. Acoustic perfection, the music radiates around me like a sweet, natural elixir, sounding out the joy of life. Here, in the heart of the symphony, my soul becomes one with the music. The orchestra, in all its splendor, ascends to the height of the crescendo’s peak. Ah! The ultimate high! I am there, inside it, surrounded by power, glory, beauty.

And now, it slowly comes down again. Down to the gentle melody, the sweet measures of the violins, the cellos, the woodwinds. I become lost along the peace of the music’s grace. It cradles me, holds me, soothes the pain and weariness, and for this brief, glorious, musical moment, I forget my illness.

And through music my soul began to soar
and I heard as I’ve never heard before…

Ah, I wish to hold onto this feeling, I wish to remain here, in this theater, enwrapped in the beauty of this symphony. Here, where all is forgotten, set aside, and new heights are reached as the swell of the crescendo rises once again. My heart sings with it, my voice rides along with it. (and I now realize that the people around me are staring at me, so I stop singing, at least on the outside). My soul still sings along though, rising and falling, following the great masterpiece.

And I now, will put down the pen…and ride out this glorious high.

Ooh, a symphony concert! I can relate to that, at least. Stephen describes very well that feeling of being swept away by a great and passionate work of music. Bravo!

Matrixman wrote:Ooh, a symphony concert! I can relate to that, at least. Stephen describes very well that feeling of being swept away by a great and passionate work of music. Bravo!

Yes he does! It's so easy to just close your eyes and let the music carry you to a glorious place...

Music was one of Stephen's passions

That was beautiful, Tracie.

I hope you'll have another entry for us soon.

maybe tomorrow

It feels good to start it up again, it's been a long time.

Yeah, let's try to build this thread up a bit! A lousy 64 pages. Can't we do better than that???

I am so happy you feel up to doing this again, Furls. I have missed this a great deal.

Furls---

backatcha ur-bane

I missed posting in here on Sept 25, which is the 4th year marker of Stephen's passing. And we all gathered around his grave here on the mountain with our candles, played "Vincent" and "Fly" and Bach, and spoke of our memories of him.

It was during this remembering that Heidi recounted a conversation that she had with him, one that she never revealed before...

"Uncle Steve, does Heaven have golden streets and a gate made of pearls?"

"No, Heaven is being wrapped up in the Jesus' arms. Heaven is being surrounded in God's love and light. Heaven is pure peace and joy. Imagine Heidi, if you could take happiness and turn it into something you can touch, taste, see and hear, and then imagine that more glorious than the anything you've ever seen or heard here in this life."

"You mean Heaven is like being happy all the time and never sad?"

"Yes, that is exactly what Heaven is."

June 18, 2001 11:02pm

My heart is weighted by fear this night. Not the fear of dying or passing, but the fear of living without purpose or consciousness. I fear laying in a bed, my mind and heart vacant, functioning only to keep the husk of me alive. I fear a non-passing, a lingering, a half shell survival. That would be death to me. For death is a void, death is nothingness, death is nowhere, death is the way out of existence. Death is the end of me, the end of who I am, who I was. I refuse to just lie there, a hunk of poisoned flesh, with no awareness, forced into living death.

I crave passing on, of leaving behind pain and stepping into the glorious light of eternal peace. I long for the rest that comes after the hours of hard labor; the great unburdening, the release. I long for the life everlasting, the great journey, where time is nonexistent, has no meaning. There can be no in between for me. No blank existence. No lurking. No death.