Things

Yesterday Marie and I went over to the Mangans' house for the beginning of the sale of Jean's belongings. Seeing our beloved Jean's earthly possessions laid out for purchase broke our hearts, but it was done with love by her sister-in-law Lori and her brother Patrick, and her beautiful mother Joan, who radiated serenity and grace. Joan and the rest of the family seem happy that Jean's treasures went to the home of someone who loved Jean as much as Marie and I did, and still do. Certainly it was awkward to attend such a sale and know that sales should be impersonal - yet this one could never be. Not to us.

 

Marie and I have two items now that meant the world to Jean, and we are very honored. One of them is a Tibetan dragon singing basin (if you put water in it and hold it by the handles and move it, it makes a beautiful sound) It is from the Isabella catalog, and it is absolutely breathtaking. Paul reminded me that it is sacred, but Marie and I knew that already. We put it in an honored space near the heart of our house, and will treasure it.

 

 

                                                                                   Singing Bowl

 

Also, we were able to purchase a 5 X 7 Gabbeh rug which was made in Egypt - it is now under our dining room table and looks like it has been there always. Jean loved that rug so much - I reiterate here that it is with a mixture of heartbreak and love that we brought these things home. I sit now in our living room and I feel Jean's presence here, and it and am filled with an overwhelming sense of peace and rightness. 

 

                                         

                                                                                  

                                                                                          Gabbeh Rug

I also got some beautiful beaded earrings that were made for Jean by a friend of ours, Jan Stokes. I will give one pair to Marie. I bought some delicate, filigreed silver earrings that are just gorgeous, and I am going to let my mother pick out a pair for herself.  I found a set of "Tree of Life" antiqued iron bookends,  nice picture frames,  a tiny beaded purple treasure box, and some lovely colorful baskets.  Finally, Jean left behind a lavender caftan from Deva Lifewear - the company Jean, Marie and I loved which is no longer in business.  I had desperately wanted another purple caftan from them - and so it is. How like Jean to grant an impossible wish. Jean and I both loved all shades of purple. To some people, it would seem odd to be wearing clothing that belonged to a beloved friend who died, but I sincerely think that Jean is smiling.

 

I know they are just things. STUFF. I would give them away in a heartbeat - I would do anything to bring Jean back. Every day I miss her with a grief that is so deep that I cannot cry. I haven't been able to blog much since she died. Her death was more profound to me than I can express. I still keep running into things I want to show her: a list of hilarious baby names, some vibrant flowers Marie has planted, our new vegetable garden, my Celtic harp which is now in the living room again, and the magical paths Marie has created in the back yard. I want Jean and her mother Joan to be sitting with us, right now, on the new screened porch, enjoying ice-cold Coca-Cola and admiring the view. Then I remember that Jean is continuing her journey in a place where we cannot see her nor touch her.

 

Where is she? It is incomprehensible to me that she is no longer in this world. When I go to the library I expect to see her. And I always feel as if she is there. But why shouldn't I? She is there. We know that.

 

I want to talk to her! Actually, I talk to her all the time. Thank you, Jean, for taking care of me. Even now you take care of me. Your strong spirit resonates in my bones when I wear your lavender caftan. Your radiant mother and your dear siblings carry your spirit and it spills forth when I communicate with them.  I love you, Jean, and I always will. You believed in reincarnation and so do I, and I know we will meet again. I only hope that next time around, I can give as much to you as you gave to me, for 28 years.  Here is a poem I posted on the Mangan Facebook page:

 

SUMMER LADY
Revised for Jean Mangan, by Elizabeth Flygare

 

Early morning colors
Sunlight filtering through green...
Red roses, bright yellow daffodils
Chocolate chips in between
Summer Lady, child of the day
Life is laughter and working is play
Every dawn is a festival day.

In my spirit moving
Dancing through my life you go
Spring showers, warm August wonderlands
Carry me through the snow
Summer lady, gift to my heart
Through your blessings, joy you impart
Filling me with your magical art.

Summer Lady, seasons go round,
Through your laugh, spun with gold
With your love, you are beauty
You will never grow old.
And your music will not be erased
Though you've gone, you've left joy in your place.
Your reflection will shine in my face.

 

 

Beautiful Joan Mangan and her beloved daughter Jean in our home, January 2010

My birthday is in five days. I don't even care. I'll be sixty-four - and Jean didn't even get to be sixty.