Not what I'd planned...

Came home from a great day at the ANA in Portland ready to write a report on the trip and the last few days' events to discover that kathlaw has ... um ... left us. I found this in e-mail:

Katherine's body was found late this afternoon along the San Pedro River
by a group of hikers. The police estimate time of death sometime around
sundown on Thursday.

And I found this in suricattus's LJ. Meerkat, I'm so sorry!

Katherine and I have been professional acquaintances for years but I felt like I was really getting to know her on LJ and now ... this. I thought her recent post thanking her friends was ... odd, but I had no idea.

My hands are shaking. I can't stop crying. Damn it!

Katherine, you'll be so missed. I hope you've found peace, wherever you've landed.

For Katherine

I slept very deeply ... which I didn't expect to do after last night's news, and woke feeling stiff and sore, more, I'm sure, from my six-hours roundtrip on the road yesterday than anything else. This morning the sun's really bright in Seattle, even though there's a thin gray overcast. And after reading more remembrances of Katherine online, I suddenly had an urge to listen to one of my favorite Yes songs, called, fittingly for a writer in our field, "Wondrous Stories," and the appropriateness of it struck me powerfully. This is for you, Katherine:

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wondrous Stories
Jon Anderson

I awoke this morning
love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.

He spoke of lands not far
or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
if I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.

Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
You're close
and were you there to stand
so cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
to hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.

Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I had a great day yesterday overall, and I do intend to record it here. Later.

Moving on...

God, it's 7:11 PM in Seattle, and I'm still feeling wrung out and sore-eyed over Katherine's passing.

But life goes on.

As many of you no doubt remember, my car was stolen in December and found toward the end of January. At that time, the insurance company was nearly done with the procedure of paying me off for the stolen vehicle. When the car was found, I had it inspected by Saturn and GEICO, and the conclusion was that the car is pretty beaten up and may have a busted head gasket. All that being the case, GEICO offered to total it and pay me off anyway. My beloved Fezzig now waits to be picked up by the insurance company. I'm sure at some point I'll write a eulogy for my car. In light of yesterday's news, however, I'm not really up to it. Perspective, proportion and all that.

In the meanwhile, I've used the insurance pay out to put down money on a new car, which I picked up today, a little red Ford Focus hatchback. It was in my price range (otherwise it would have been one of those fabulous hybrids), it handles very nicely and, well, it's the right color. My sales agent was incredibly cool, understood how I was feeling, and got me through the purchase process pretty quickly. (Even then I had to ask for a break because I was so tired I was having trouble holding it together.) In the end, this 60 year old guy and I closed our business by talking about the rock concerts that have stuck with us, and he told me stories about seeing Jimi Hendrix open for, I think it was The Monkeys, of all people, seeing Pink Floyd, Bob Dylan, Grateful Dead, and on and on. It ended up being a respite in an exhausting day.

I should be excited about the new car, and deep down inside I am. It's a sweet little thing. Right now, though, I'm just so tired, and still so sad, that it's hard to muster enthusiasm even for making dinner.