Eternal Flame

The whirlwind of the past three months.

“How is it that life can remain static, almost obstinately resistant to any change for years at a time, and then, without warning, become flooded with so much newness within the course of a few weeks?“

~Anne Elliot, from Jane Austen’s Persuasion 2022

Flame

Whuff, long time no post. I’ve left an update over on my gory, steamy fantasy fiction publication where I’ve been sharing my Persephone & Haides tales…

But if you don’t follow those, then you probably don’t know what the heck I’ve been up to. These days, *I* don’t know what the heck I’m up to half the time. Of course, there’s a lot of more personal stuff I left out over there that I won’t be leaving out here. MUAhahah…

YOU SEE, HOW IT ALL STARTED WAS…

• Over the summer, I decide to fly back to my old stompin’ grounds in Colorado to help my dearest William with household reorganization, because he’s going blind from macular degeneration. You remember William, right? My Vietnam Vet buddy who helped me through my first MRI after my big car wreck in 2000. He washed my laundry and helped me load my dishwasher when I couldn’t, taught me what PTSD was—and that I had it. Although I hate that he needs such help now, this warms my heart to give it directly back to him.

• I decide that, while I’m in Colorado, I’ll spend three weeks there so I can also see some of my bestest friends that I haven’t seen since Covid.

• I also decide that, while I’m in the Rockies anyway…yes, actually…it would probably be a really good idea to also see My Eternal Flame, seeing as how he and I are finally both single at the same time and will be standing in the same flippin’ time zone for once. This aligning of stars and planets has not happened since September 2000. Which is the last time I stood face-to-face with him.

“Wait, Eternal Flame whosiwhachit?! I’ve read your entire old blog and known you for years! How the heck do I not know that you have an Eternal Flame?!” Because that’s a piece of my heart I kept buried on the ocean floor in the 12-lock box, surrounded by the Piraña Guard, and rarely spoke about to anybody since 2000.

But did you read this steamy, sexxxy episode? Well, then you’ve actually glimpsed him.

And did you dive into this dance-tale on Tinkerings? For a long time, this was the only way I could express what I felt for him.

FIRE: Domain of the Heart

If you’ve seen that dance series, then you know what this man means to me, and how hard I tried to blow that flame out. I have never been successful. At the end of that last dance, what you can’t see is that, even as I strode off stage, that little persistent candle reignited behind my back. Over and over for 26 years. Since May, he and I have been talking again intensely—no, casually—nope, intensely. Like we do.

And so…

OCTOBER 2024

• Three days before I fly to Colorado, My Flame and I choose a date to stand face-to-face with each other and finally, at long flippin’ last, see what there is to see between us, and figure out why the bleep we have never been able to let each other go.

• Over the next three fast-n-furious weeks:

  • I spend several stints at William’s house helping him recombobulate his life to make the next phase of it easier.

  • I spend 36 hours in New Mexico, slam back unexpectedly with the man I have never been able to replace since we broke up, and learn a GREAT many things that I did not know. About myself. About My Flame. And about various people surrounding us when things got all torn apart a quarter-century ago.

  • I become The Dog Whisperer. Yes. Me. The girl who was terrorized by my bullies’ dogs all through my childhood, and have always been a cat-person. But EMDR is a miraculous little trauma technique, and thus. The Dog Whisperer is born.

  • I drink copious cups of coffee and tea with some of my Si-Stars and their wonderful husbands.

  • I trance-dance at a Witches’ Ball.

  • Dance some more with Ye Olde Crew.

  • Dress up as Harley Quinn multiple times.

  • Take whippets for a walk down Elm Street on Halloween. (Okay, okay, it’s Elm Road but who’s getting technical?)

  • And spend a night introducing my various friend groups to each other as we hop from one Speakeasy to another. One of those Speakeasies is decked in Nightmare Before Christmas extravaganza. It is a night of badassery.

Colorado Shenanigans: coincidental checkie floor at the Witches' Ball, the last of the die-hard Hafla Crew, Harlz & Jokez, Nightmares on Elm Street & Before Christmas with Tha Krew.

• The morning after Halloween, I awaken to find a pending social media status that needs my confirmation. Yes. A relationship status. 😳 Me. 😱 I know. I have only advertised a relationship status ONCE in my entire life: when I got married the second time. (I only had email and a landline when I got married the first time.) Even so, I did not post pics while I was married. I did not link posts. I shared even less about that aspect of my life than I shared about my martial arts and my writing—and I was Zipper Mouth Extraordinaire about all that.

But I am not her anymore.

• For the remainder of the trip, My Flame and I continue to annoy everybody we come into contact with, due to our insufferable re-twitterpated ridiculata. Wut. We have 26 years to make up for, yo.

• As such, we decide that I need to come back to New Mexico for a longer visit over Thanksgiving.

NOVEMBER 2024

• I return home for a few weeks and spend a bunch of nights with Mom for our annual Deer Camp soiree while Dad is hunting in Minnesota. We watch a bunch of our HalloweenSeason movies, as well as a few of our classic faves: Mama Mia, Kill Bill, and Strictly Ballroom. We may or may not sniffle, blubber, and hand each other kleenex at a certain…ahem…song.

• We also eat our standard Halloweenie cupcakes.

• After hearing about my trip to Colorado, and what a relief it was to spend so much time with my Heart Friends and my old community, Mom says, “Well, you’ve been in Arkansas eleven years and just haven’t found that level of connection. Maybe you should start thinking about where else you might want to live.”

• 😳

• Me: “Ummmmm…it’s funny you should mention that. Let’s get some coffee because I need to tell you a tale about the man I have kept tucked away in the secret, burning depths of my heart for 26 years.” By the end of it, even my mother—who is NOT a romance reader or watcher—is melting a little. Of course, there are so many logistics and questions and uncertainties and that little matter of 800 miles that complicates everything. So Mom and I start discussing all the varied options for bridging those miles in order to start answering those questions. Because there are a lot of them.

• We do not make much in the way of our standard Mommy-Daughter meals—avgolemono soup, creamy chicken & wild rice soup-that-is-more-of-a-chowder, THE homemade mac-n-cheese, and grilled cheese with tomato soup. Mom had a second stroke last year, so there are just way too many things she’s not up for doing. Instead, we push the Easy Button and chill together.

• I help her beef up her physical therapy to the next level, and start doing to same to my own in preparation of knee surgery.

• I pound out the next round of Holiday Pookerchiefs and get them up on the Etsy site in preparation of Black Friday. (What are Pookerchiefs? One of my Si-Stars calls her dogs The Pookers, and she has a business sewing buckle-clipped, reversible bandanas for pets. Hence: POOKERCHIEFS. She lost her primary sewer and asked if I wanted the job. Me: HELLS YES!)

• I tear down the costume racks for my massive dance projects, because the Kingkiller Dance Project had gotten blended with the ACOTAR Dance Project, and I’m having trouble finding stuff I needed when I need it. So I return all costuming, clothing, jewelry, props, and wigs to their proper homes. And yes. My clothing and costuming are ridiculously arranged by my 5 Elements.. So there, and neh.

THANKSGIVING 2024

• I return to New Mexico to see how My Eternal Flame and I deal with spending more than 36 fast-n-furious hours in each other’s presence.

  • I watch the Thanksgiving sunset atop a snow-covered mountain overlooking a desert city, enwrapped in the arms of My Eternal Flame.

  • Get my heart melted by spending another evening with his son—he was three the last time we hung out and insti-bonded.

  • Meet My Flame’s mom, and yes, we really do have that much in common.

  • Help string Christmas lights on ginormous yuccas, play errand girl while my man is on the roof hooking on more lights, and lovingly pluck thorns from his palms the next day.

  • Do way more Dog Whispering.

  • Do a Harley Quinn photo shoot with a man who spends a massive chunk of his life behind a camera. (I may or may not have kept that costume on for awhile afterwards. Ahem.)

  • So many more awesome and enlightening shenanigans ensue. But those are for meeee, all me, Precious! I mean us. And the dogs.

  • In the words of Macklemore & Ryan Lewis (which My Flame and I both just happen to sing randomly): 🎶 This is fucking awesome. 🎶

Dog Whisperer pinned in her usual spot, the Thanksgiving sunset, Persephone's Girl strikes again, Christmas yuccas, and a glimpse of Harlz. (You'll have to wait for the real things once he's done editing.)

DECEMBER 2024

• I fly back home again, where I combine multiple projects into one with pretty much the same goal. I mean, I’m about to have knee surgery on December 9, and then I’ll have my man here for Christmas, so I opt for a beautiful abode in which to recover and relax instead of a functional dance filming studio:

  • I unpack from all my trips.

  • Tear down the lights and big frame for my filming backdrops, and stow the green-screen floor mats.

  • Tear down the Kingkiller and ACOTAR Dance Project inspiration altars, in favor of Christmas decorations.

  • Tear down the Spring Persephone & Demeter inspiration altar, because it is NOT spring, and daffodils do NOT go with the poinsettias, yo.

  • Receive the Mandate: Winter in the Underworld Persephone & Haides inspiration altar is still very active. Apparently my affinity for Nightmare Before Christmas has seeped in and stuck. Although, as I was adding twinkle lights to the altar, my chain of little skulls fell down, so I put them away with all the rest of the Halloweenie decor.

  • Combine pre-guest cleaning with fall cleaning I didn’t get to because I was traveling.

  • Put up the Christmas decorations.

DECEMBER 5

• I put the final ornaments on the tree, and corral the items for a Friends & Fam holiday altar when my dad calls. 😳 Why is my dad calling instead of texting?

Because we have to race down to the big hospital in the wake of the ambulance that just took my mother down there. After supper, she suddenly couldn’t breathe. The paramedics did a breathing treatment on her. They took her out to the ambulance where a large machine pounded CPR into her chest. They raced her to the hospital where they tried for another half hour to get her heart started.

They couldn’t.

And so.

At least it only lasted twenty minutes from start to finish. They’re pretty sure it was a blood clot in the lung. I can only wish for my final departure to go so quickly.

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I cancelled my surgery that was supposed to happen last Monday. I won’t be having it until after the holidays and after my mom’s memorial. We’re doing a Celebration of Life, instead of solemn funeral. It’s what Mom wanted, and what Dad and I need.

He and I are starting to come out of shock. I will have gobs more to say about my beloved mother who was also my first best friend, about the last years in the wake of her strokes, and about everything that has ensued since her death.

Someday.

Mommy & Me - with me eternally.

I honestly have no idea what I’ll be doing with my life now. With the curveball after curveball that has been thrown at me, and now the excruciating monkey wrench of my mother’s passing, I can’t even begin to guess.

So I’m not.

I help Dad do all the logistics and prepare for the memorial.

I hyperventilate for a few seconds or bawl my guts out for a few minutes or hide in the cave for a few hours whenever I need to.

I gradually work my way through a box of gourmet cupcakes—the kind Mommy and I always eat ate over Deer Camp. I bought them for myself because it’s my birthday week, and Dad doesn’t like them, so we’ll go to our favorite Chinese buffet instead. For the first time without my mother.

I sit in a lot of silence with the twinkle lights around me and the huge, fuzzy, black-and-white checkie blanket my sweetheart sent me until he can get his arms around me. I distract myself with cheesy Christmas movies or the gobs of my fiction collecting dust in my computer.

I sleep a lot.

I talk to my friends. I talk to my family. I talk to Dad. I talk to My Flame.

EDIT: You can scratch that last one. To top it all off, the day between my mother’s memorial and my knee surgery, he dumped me. And so.

I actually danced. It took a week. But I’ve started dancing again. And I’ve started to be able to wrap my brains around editing the posts I had managed to draft during all that travel.

This is not one of them. Obviously. There’s not much else to say. I hope you’re having a wonderful holiday season if you’re celebrating them right now. I hope you’re having a cozy winter or a refreshing summer! In spite of the monkey wrenches, enormous and small, I absolutely still am. I mean…

We dance with Death every moment that we breathe. These are just some new, very difficult steps that I’m learning, and the advanced versions of the ones I’ve been practicing all my life. We’ll hit the Winter Solstice here in a couple weeks—the 24th Anniversary of my big car wreck. It’s my Rebirthday, just like it marks the Return of the Unconquerable Sun up here in the northern hemisphere.

So we’ll keep revolving and orbiting and pivoting and burning.

Until we don’t.

But even then…

© 2024 Hartebeast

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