When You Walk On
by Eliza Gilkyson

There’s a long and winding river
From the darkness to the dawn
It will carry and deliver you
When you walk on

No one here can say for certain
What lies in the great beyond
You’ll pass through that parted curtain
When you walk on

You may grasp at the illusion
The confusion of your mind
But soon you will remember
To surrender one more time

You may fade out the doorway
Fly away above the throne
Those who stay carry your story
A little glory lingers on

Though the world you leave behind you
Will become a distant song
Every soul you loved will find you
When you walk on

When you walk on

    Thank you all for honoring me on this day.  Simon, I loved the message you left on the machine.  It was good to hear your strong voice, and it made me feel that the day now was complete and perfect.

    Bop spoiled me with this poem which he printed in such a way that at first, he was showing me an article in a magazine. . . it was so slick, and the photo and poem reflected each other.  As if that weren’t enough, he took me and the Jee and Bebs to Yosaku for a memorable lunch.  When I called to see if they were open for lunch, the guy who answered the phone recognized my voice and he said, “Oh, I know you. You like uni and ika . . .” He is a young Thai guy who used to be a waiter but is now the manager!  When he showed me in, he instructed the chef to break open a new box of uni so that it would be fresh, and sweet and fresh it was!!! I had 2 orders of it plus ika plus tempura shrimp and veggies.

    Jee also spoiled me with an electric tooth brush and some whitening tooth paste, on top of some organic chocolate bars and a sweater and a candle from Acorn Hill.  I told her not to spend money on me  . . . Bop gave a check to Jee for mother’s day to enjoy a few treats she deserves.

    The world is suffering, so even when I am being pampered by good food, good company and good friends, I feel a lot of sadness and sympathy for the sorrow that humanity is enduring.  Not only did Burma just suffer a vast tragedy, but today in Sichuan, an earthquake has killed over 8,500 people and 900 students were found dead under the school buildings.  So, prayers go out to them, and to the tragedies here in the U.S. too, and to Iraq and Pakistan ,etc. etc.

    Seeing Tree and Justin and the Erry did my heart such good.  All three looked absolutely healthy and stunning, and the new screen showed such clarity that bebs was looking at them with new curiosity.

    I thank each and every one of you for filling my life with purpose and encouragement and pride.  Deep within me, I feel many civilizations working through me, so I have renewed interest in history and in philosophy, and in world culture and in the arts. . . we’re all somehow connected and related but also divided by ignorance, by prejudice and by arrogance, but we can be united by compassion and in peace.

    In praise of world peace and tolerance and compassion, and celebrating diversity, truth and integrity, I send you all love and gratitude.  Love you!

many selves have i. many faces have i. i play my roles, forgetting often, if not all the time, the person behind the actress. So convincing at playing these roles that i fool myself, except during times of communion with the divine. then & only then, do i feel at home again with my eternal self.

Before I even met her, I knew some things about E.F. She loved good food, she had a lot of love for other people, and she loved for other people to enjoy good food.

The first time I met Eddie, he had driven over to CMU to bring Tria home for the winter break and had brought a very large plate of home-made snacks that E.F. made for all of us to eat while Eddie rested. Though we all ate, there was enough left to feed a family of five.

I loved all of the food she made, and had many chances to observe her process. There was care put in to each step and she would only use the freshest ingredients. She was able to whip up the most complicated dishes without a second thought, but when I offered to help, E.F. was patient and was always able to explain each step without me having to ask for clarification.

E.F. had a quick wit and could talk to anybody. Whenever we went together to the bank, the grocery store or anywhere else, she always knew exactly what to say to engage whoever she was interacting with. I remember we once went to the post office and were waiting in line to be served. When we finally got to the counter, the person helping us looked like she was having a bad day. Somehow, E.F. had the clairvoyance to start a conversation with her about TV chef Paula Deen and the woman perked up immediately. E.F was able to engage anybody and wake them from their routine. And with so much love for strangers outside of her home, one can imagine how much love she gave to her family and friends.

Tria had once described her house to me before I ever visited, and for the most part, I could imagine the layout, but the character of the home was something I could only have known by experiencing it first-hand. The color, inside and out, was unlike anything I had seen before in a house. I was accustomed to stark, modern and shiny, but 704 was warm, friendly and welcoming. Art in every corner of the house, I learned that E.F. was talented artist who put love and care into everything she touched, and she had groomed her daughters to be the same way.

When I first met E.F., she welcomed me into her house with open arms and warm food. And that’s how it was ever since. Though she was sick the entire time I had known her, I couldn’t tell for a while, because her energy was so strong.

She gave all of her energy and love to other people and never made a fuss about it.

I was blessed to be considered part of E.F’s family.

Here is the first one Baba wrote:

Folding and Braiding

When mama first came to visit me at Antioch (I think it was in the fall of ’69), I got hold of a “campus taxi” (someone’s private car that does a side business of going to the Dayton airport), went up to the arrivals section, and there she was, with a backpack of art supplies and dressed very hippy-ish. I was living in a basement apartment off-campus at that time with Luke and Viki Leuba. She was both amused and aghast at my lifestyle, especially the thick, green curtains that I used for bedspreads and the massive amount of pork hocks I cooked on the stove and that Luke and I polished off, along with our homebrew beer. Mama, at that time, was very much macrobiotic, working at the Kushi house in Boston, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the little ones–as well as going to graduate school. But, she was a good sport and just ate what she was comfortable with.

During the days, I would go to class and she would paint (she brought a set of oil paints with her!). One of her paintings was of the rug in my room with a birch walking stick and an evelope. I can’t seem to find that painting anymore. Then, after class, we would go for walks, around the village/town or in the glen (Glen Helen, you can Google images of Glen Helen, Ohio)–a 1,000 acre nature preserve that’s part of Antioch. As we sat on top of a gorge looking at all greenery, mama started to fidget with her hair that was being blown by the wind and asked me to braid it. I was nonplussed because I had never braided hair before. She was incredulous that I didn’t know how to braid and tried to teach me, but I didn’t do such a good job and was slow (sort of like how I was changing diapers for the new babies). So, she lost some patience and re-did the braid herself. But, I did remember her instructions from then on and it came into good use with all our daughters, though I never did get the hang of doing a good tight braid.

One evening, we had to do our laundry and we took a basket of laundry to the local laundromat. We sat outside on the curb as we waited and mama, impulsively took off a silver bracelet that she was wearing and said,”I’m tired of it.” Then she proceeded to throw it away into the street. I was in shock, as I’ve never seen anyone do anything remotely like that. But, that was mama in those days, a soul who lived totally in the now and was utterly true to her feelings of the moment. If I had thought about it a little deeper, I would have thanked God for her impetuousness because otherwise how else would she have decided to take a chance with me? In the load of laundry that dried were a couple of bedsheets (no, not the curtains), we discussed how we could fold the sheets and each took one end and stood away from each other, then we agreed on which end to fold first, until finally, we walked towards each other again to make the ends meet and the sheet became a compact little bundle. That was a magical moment for us because I think we both saw that together we can do things that each would find hard to do alone and we had enjoyed the teamwork. From that day on, mama and I always kept our ritual of folding sheets and, I think, we both would think back to that evening in Yellow Springs each time we folded together. Even towards the end of December last year, mama and I folded sheets one last time and we reminded each other of that first time we performed the task.

When you see me
Fly away without you
Shadow on the things you know
Feathers fall around you
And show you the way to go
It’s over, it’s over.

Nestled in your wings my little one
This special morning brings another sun
Tomorrow see the things that never come
Today

When you see me
Fly away without you
Shadow on the things you know
Feathers fall around you
And show you the way to go
It’s over, it’s over.

Hey, Justin,

p.s. you might as well have Bosco eat with you, and have him contribute fruit or ice cream.

I love this email because it shows her sense of humor, her cooking skills, and her care for others — even though she had never met Bosco she was always calling to make sure that Justin and I included him for meals and were good housemates. If you haven’t before, try this recipe, and in the spirit of E.F., share it with someone who doesn’t expect to be invited to dinner!

But p.s: as with all our family recipes, we don’t really measure, we just go by feeling, so take those measurements with a grain of salt, and season to taste.

So on this day, think of E.F. and of how joyously and generously she lived life. Eat something delicious, take care of your living environment, and give of your love. And if you miss her, here are some of her words on May 7th, 1997:

May 7, 1997

So, I turned 51 today. It is a blessing to be 51 for me, because it’s taken me a whole year to accept and to get used to the idea of being 50. Now that I’ve lived with the idea of being 50 for a whole year now, I’m beginning to celebrate my age, because I can’t pretend to be “not ready” for the big occasion. I guess I’m finally feeling deserving to be the 50 years old that I am, or was. See, maybe for other people who turned 50 last year, it might be anti-climactic this year, but for me, I’m relieved that the pressure of turning 50 is off, and I don’t need to find the significance anymore. Instead, I can say that I have survived being 50.

Drinking that cup of tea first thing in the morning has become a ritual. It grounds me, gives me a good dose of caffeine, and I think the tea likes me as much as I like it. Still, I am in search of more of that mountain tea that Wang-pi has been sending me. So far, nothing compares with that most refreshing and fragrant mountain green tea. Ah, sweet green tea, pure and simple, clear and true. Wang-Pi, are you listening?

On my way to the dentist, I have my Earl gray tea next to me. I have my stories in my head. I have my children in my heart. I have my hands on the wheel, and I drive carefully, but I’m so annoyed with the road repair, and I become worried that I may be late. The peridontist, Dawn, is a gentle, pretty young lady in her twenties. She is especially patient and competent. It’s worth driving all the way to Olney for the kind of care she provides. I felt bad that we went over-time a bit, and her boyfriend had to wait for her.

Last week, I saw a bird-bath that liked. I thought about it all week, and today, I bought it for my birthday. It looked really at home in our garden, much to my joy. I also bought two purple petunias. When I went back to my car, I decided to go back into the store, buy another bird bath, for Jacki.

When I came home, I tried to paint, but I was on the phone a lot. I called Papa and Mama, and they called back after the Liaos left. Eddie’s mom called to wish me happy birthday.

Paula called from the hospital with a tube still in her throat, to wish me happy birthday. How sad and grateful I was to hear from her. The news wasn’t what I had wanted to hear. She has complications now from the surgery, and the tumors are growing back, and she is experiencing kidney failure. If I had more money, I would fly to Houston to see her.

Ruth called. We’re still very close, even though we hardly ever see each other. I feel that we can talk about anything. She is taking off 6 months to get her home more organized. Good for her.

Tina called to wish me happy birthday when I was out. Ah-Gia called and left a birthday message as well. Nessa called just as I walked in from Harlow’s where Lin cut my hair. He told me to grow out my bangs and part my hair on the side. He was very helpful and very friendly. The receptionist was a bit aloof, but that is who she is. Nessa and I had a lovely conversation, except I could hear the sleep-deprivation in her voice. Bibi called and left a nice happy birthday message. Ying-Hwa called to tell me she sent off the essay to me today to be corrected. Chi-Chi thanked me profusely on my birthday. I don’t know if I deserve her gratitude, but I do care about her happiness.

I almost went to school with Sandi Chamberlin for a faculty and class parents meeting, but at the last minute I decided to stay home, so I could eat my dinner without wolfing it down, and a few minutes later, Simon called to wish me happy birthday. We had a long conversation. How surprising and sweet that he remembered! He has reserved a ticket to N.Y on the 25th of June.

Meesha called while I was talking to Simon. The poor baby left a message and sounded so tired and so overwhelmed. I have to send her encouragement and hope and good energy. I am sending her a prayer of well-being. May her Guardian Angel be not far away, and may God’s compassion and love see her through these hard times of final exams and final projects. Thank you, God.

Dinner was good and a bit oily, just the way I wanted it. Poached fish, two kinds – scrod and skate. The watercress was good, too. And I had a few noodles just in case the long noodles would stretch my life longer. Probably doing yoga and tai chi might extend my life span and my chi, but I am lacking the discipline to do it everyday. There’s always something more urgent. Much more urgent than doing yoga or tai chi, even if doing either can make me live longer. This life and death business is such a mystery. Where was I a hundred years ago? What was the state of pre-birth anyway? Was I partying and networking with other spiritual beings ? Even Papa and Mama weren’t born then. Did we know one another then, and did we know we were gonna hook up later?

Saw fragments of a program about cheetahs narrated by Holly Hunter. Good, exciting stuff. When I see the cheetahs run, a kind of adrenalin spreads inside. They are the Michael Jordans of the jungle, the Tiger Woods of determination.