Saturday, December 22, 2007

Where Eagles Dare to Fly

There were seagulls and pelicans skimming above the waves of the Palisades' beach as I listened to someone mention John's name. The man spoke of his breakfast meetings he'd had with John throughout the years, in the background loomed an enormous Christmas tree lit and trimmed with red bows and candy canes as the restaurant help spoke loudly in Spanish. I listened to the man's pain of his loss of John and gazed out at Catalina Island, a rare sight to behold. This man's memories brought up images of John listening intently as his friend unloaded his woes and the frustration he felt for not having been able to help John. The man's heart hurt as so many will this day, his Memorial takes place this afternoon. There will be other days as well to smile or shed a tear in memory of John Berg. I will learn what he meant to many others as I was mesmerized by the sole voice of this one man, searching to voice his loss. He was agitated that he'd not see John again.At first, I was struck with sadness but I kept looking for the dolphins in the waves in the sea behind where this man sat as he talked. A lone dolphin broke out and breached against the cold air that permeated through an open window. A breathtaking and timely break in the allure of the place that I feel John is, poetry in motion and harmoniously home within the elements. I haven't seen the sun shine so bright in almost a week, a woman mentioned the same as she stood next to me before we'd sat. The dolphin went quickly but the birds continued their cross-paths, searching. I thought of how the soaring in thermal pockets--where only eagles dare to glide--coincided with a few words the man shared about what a deep thinker John was, how he dared to listen and remain until another was done talking to give guidance. He'd answered his own distress call. John was an eagle, he did dare to go where most couldn't, wouldn't or maybe shouldn't--according to some who fear changes. I am not angry with my friend. Miss him? You bet. The moisture in my eyes turned to a smile on my lips when I felt John's presence looming in this room by the sea because somehow, I still felt he was watching over every thing through others' eyes and hearts or maybe he's still soaring on another plane, giggling or outright laughing in freedom. I miss you, John, I respect you more and will always adore and honor, your honesty.

1 comment:

Mary Lou said...

How incredibly beautiful. Please continue to share, and let others know about this blog...Love,

Mary Lou