Tre Miller Rodriguez's Blog, page 61
July 21, 2015
"I was searching the words ‘grief’ and 'widow’ and I found White Elephant in the..."
- — Mary, Ireland (maryo9687)
July 20, 2015
IRL postcards like this Far Rockaway sunset soothe my Cali Girl...
IRL postcards like this Far Rockaway sunset soothe my Cali Girl soul. Also the cold beers + hot company.
July 14, 2015
Space + Time Continuum
That thing when you’ve lived in a place for almost a decade and your living room furniture has been arranged in every possible configuration. You already know the current one works best for the space but after three years you want more open space for workouts at home.
So you crank up Pandora and move shit around, thinking you’ll execute a brilliant new room. Instead, you just create a cluttered version of the same furniture. (Yeah, you could move everything back, but where’s the fun in that?)
Cut to you defaulting to the arrangement that was your living room from 2006 to 2010. Telling yourself that it’s not the same because those armchairs have been recovered and the flooring is different and throw pillows are now slip covered in stripey fabric.
But as soon as you step back to survey the scene, it’s not different. Your coffee table is now exactly where you and your late husband shared hundreds of meals. Your sofa has returned to the place where you both sat, casually discussing the ER, unaware that his life actually depended on it. Oh and there’s the newly open space by the east wall where the medics pronounced him and left his body for the medical examiner to pick up.
You signed up for a fresh room arrangement, not a post-traumatic experience so you try to negotiate with your grief: am I capable of overcoming these associations? Of replacing them with a calmer, striped-and-upholstered version? You’re not sure about your capability, but you are sure that another hour of heavy lifting only to return the room to where it was before feels like a colossal waste of a night.
You decide to decide tomorrow. You press pause on Pandora, head into your office-slash-kitchen to transcribe a client’s podcast and leave your phone to charge in the bedroom.
Ten minutes later, music from your wireless speaker floods your apartment, drowning out the podcast on your desktop. You did not press play on the phone in your bedroom; you are in the office-slash-kitchen. And the song that’s inexplicably playing? It’s called “Breathe.”
You step tentatively into your living room, which is empty of visible ghosts. Ditto the bedroom. You pause the Pandora again but hover for a moment, trying to catch it auto-playing. You return to the office and your podcast project, secretly hoping that the song will play again.
It doesn’t, but the incident shifts your perspective on the living room arrangement. Instead of a painful reminder of your previous life, it feels like a portal of potential: an entry point via furniture into the space and time continuum.
July 12, 2015
Laurel June Cray: 1922-2015
Despite the miles and generations between me and my grandmother, we connected through a shared love of reading, travel and aphorisms. She is who I think of when I read a remarkable book or plan a trip to a new city or country. She is who I will miss when I want to gush about the experience. To her, I attribute my literary appetite and wanderlust. For her, I will keep reading, writing and exploring a world in which she will be acutely missed. Below is my tribute to her life, which appears in today’s edition of the Orange County Register in California.
In the early hours of May 29, 2015, Laurel June Cray died in Lewisville, Texas, after complications from a stroke. She was 93 years young and surrounded by her husband and several generations of her family.
Laurel was born on May 20, 1922, in Southwick, Mass. to the late Etta Desmond. An avid reader, she graduated from Westfield High School in 1939 and moved to New York, where she pursued modeling and secretarial work. With Donald Lawrence Cray of Lawrence, Mass., she fell in love, and married in 1947 while Donald was still in the Navy. The couple settled in Tustin, Calif., where Donald founded (and Laurel managed) his successful dental practice.
After raising their three daughters, losing one son, and retiring, the pair traveled the world, visiting more than 20 countries including Russia, China, India and Israel. More than a decade ago, they moved to Exeter, Calif. and recently relocated to Lewisville, Texas.
Laurel is survived by her devoted husband of 68 years, Donald, and younger brother, Don Desmond of Southwick, Mass. She also leaves behind three daughters, Claudia Miller of Palmdale, Calif.; Linda Nix of Lewisville, Texas; and Kathi Schuessler of Tustin, Calif. She will be missed by grandchildren, Tré Miller Rodriguez, Bree Bussell, Abby Collins, Michael Dougherty and Vanessa Walker; and great-grandchildren, Elise, Madeline, Johnie and Julia Collins; Blythe and Adam Bussell; Presley and Sydney Weber; Malachi Dougherty; and Laurie Van Deventer.
Out of respect for Laurel’s wishes, no immediate service will be held. When her husband, Donald, joins her in paradise, their ashes will be comingled and spread by family on Congamond Lake in Massachusetts, where the two fell in love as teenagers.
July 11, 2015
Two Rivers, One Bike (And Imperceptible Helmet Hair)
Two Rivers, One Bike (And Imperceptible Helmet Hair)
July 4, 2015
Happy ‘Merica Day, lovers! (at Governor’s Island)
Happy ‘Merica Day, lovers! (at Governor’s Island)
June 28, 2015
Celebrating all the people (and costumes) who now have a rainbow...
Celebrating all the people (and costumes) who now have a rainbow of civil rights instead of just a glittery June parade. The legal eagles in D.C. finally recognized what half of America already knew: you’re our equals (and often, our muses, best friends, confidants, and neighbors). We love, support and cheer for you in living color.
#Pride2015 #NYC (at Bobo Restaurant)
Pride + Joy
Happy Live-And-Let-Love Day from NYC!
June 27, 2015
The Eulogy of All Eulogies
President Obama’s eulogy for Reverend Pinckney yesterday encompassed every element of a fitting tribute:
Context.
History.
Sadness.
Grace.
Hope.
But also, a soaring call to action: “After this tragedy, we can’t allow ourselves as a country to slip into a comfortable silence.”
Preach.
May our dialogue about racism in America be loud, uncomfortable and change-sweeping.
June 21, 2015
Now serving Summer Solstice 2015 (The Frying Pan, NYC)
Now serving Summer Solstice 2015 (The Frying Pan, NYC)
