10 December 2009

Christmastime.

Dear Mia,

It’s mid December, and days are starting to feel wintry. The weather is getting chilly and crisp, the daylight hours fewer and fewer. I’m missing you now more than ever. Winter season always gave us another excuse to cuddle, to cook up a pot of hearty stew, to find a nearby bar with a fireplace—for more cuddling.

Christmas is just around the corner. I’m going to spend it in Denmark with your family, who are now my family too. Seems like just a minute ago you and I were there together for Christmas—riding the Hans Christian Andersen ride at Tivoli, then warming our hands and faces over the Dong Energy heaters; enjoying time with Claus & Thomas and Tobias, and with Maja & Mads and the girls. Was that really two whole years ago? This Christmas season will be a doozy—with a big lunch planned at Café Petersborg in Copenhagen, then Christmas days and eves with Eric & Hilde and the girls in Fünen. Looks like I’ll get to meet Pia and her family on this trip too. I’m so looking forward to all the hugs and smiles and stories and photos we’ll all share, and I hope you’ll understand if there’s a tear or two.

I’m on tour now, with Amber Rubarth—a plan you put in motion over a year ago when you suggested she and I record an album together. It’s finally done and dusted, and we’re touring the south to spread the word about it. The southland has been kind to Amber and me. Lots of friendly faces at our gigs, more sunshiny days than we’d expected, sweet visits with my cousins on days off in Decatur, and of course southern food—barbecue, shrimp & grits, and Brunswick stew. Wish you were here. You’d be loving the food, or at least marveling at it, and you'd be taking in all the sights as well—snapping photos of the Spanish moss drooping off the trees in Savannah, the vintage neon signs in Memphis, and all the light-and-shadow play everywhere in the morning and early evening. And then there'd be some more cuddling...

I’ve got to sign off now. It’s time to get back on the road with Amber. I’ll write again soon.

Sending you love with every beat of my heart, today and all the days that follow.

~Adam

02 December 2009

Guapa, Guapa y Guapa

Christmas is just around the corner and I was remembering my New York Christmas with Mia. We hung out by the fire, she had her fluffy hooded parker and duck boots to always keep her warm. We had awesome crab at Central Station with Adam. Mia took us to the Chelsea markets. We had a Blast! Missing you as always loca.






15 November 2009

A couple more school photos..


Some secondary school memories..






Some wonderful memories of Mie and her friends at secondary school in England. I can't stop looking at these photos - they make me smile and remember lots of happy times. Love E-J






26 October 2009

Guapa

Today of all days I'm thinking of you. I know you would laugh and cry and jump and scream with me. Thinking of you always angel and missing you every day but always always with a smile. :-)

10 October 2009

Sweetness and brownie-points.

Regular followers of this blog know that BabyCakes NYC—a vegan, gluten-free bakery that Mia loved—offered to help raise funds for the OMF by donating a portion of the September sales of their agave-sweetened brownies (Mia's favorite BabyCakes treat). I just got a lovely note from BabyCakes, announcing that they’d raised $741 and are donating that to the OMF in Mia’s name. That’s huge. Thank you!

04 October 2009

"When you hear a song or see a bird I loved..."

Adam passed along this beautiful piece of poetry he got from the director at the New School last week. It's so perfect for Mia. Mia had such a perfect joyful child-like wisdom and naturally created beauty all around her and made it feel like you were on the sunny side of the street anytime you walked next to her.

I think she wants to see us smiling when we think of her and this poem is a pretty reminder.
Enjoy. :)
And thanks Adam for passing this on...
ambeR

- - - - - - - - -

To Those I Love

If I should ever leave you whom I love
To go along the Silent Way,
Grieve not,
Nor speak of me with tears,
But laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you there.

(I'd come - I'd come, could I but find a way!
But would not tears and grief be barriers? )
And when you hear a song
Or see a bird I loved,
Please do not let the thought of me be sad...
For I am loving you just as I always have...
You were so good to me!

There are so many things I wanted still to do -
So many things to say to you...
Remember that I did not fear...
It was Just leaving you that was so hard to face...
We cannot see Beyond...
But this I know:
I love you so -
'twas heaven here with you!

(By Isla Paschal Richardson)

30 September 2009

A night of music, and friends, and love.


Our friend Todd Chalfant was at the Mia Abides OMF fundraiser and captured some special moments from the evening. You can see a few pics here.

Thinking of Todd now, I'm reminded of something beautiful he did for Mia and me last summer. Todd had been telling us about Fire Island—a place that he likes get away to in the hottest months. His enthusiasm got Mia and me excited enough to want to go to Fire Island, but neither of us had ever been and didn't know where to go or what to do. Todd was happy to set us up in style, advising us about the ferry and arranging a sweet apartment for a long weekend. Soon after we got settled in, the two of us went out to the beach to play backgammon and catch a few rays. The sun was pretty intense that day, and we knew we shouldn't stay in it too long, but then Todd showed up on the beach and built us an impromptu cabana from driftwood, sheets, and towels. We napped awhile in the cool shade. When we opened our eyes, we found Todd had returned—with chips and a bowl of guacamole he'd made just for us. I'll never forget how good that guac tasted—late in the afternoon, alone with Mia, in our cozy shelter by the sea.

Thank you, Todd.

25 September 2009

For those who like numbers.

The recent Mia Abides concert/auction event raised $1,705, which will be donated to the Ocular Melanoma Foundation. Additionally, numerous donations--totaling $1,961--have been gifted in Mia's name via the OMF Web site. $1,705 + $1,961 = $3,666. *THANK YOU* for your generosity.

What a week.

I'm still reveling in the joyful vibes of our celebrations this past Sunday and Monday in New York City. Many friends joined us for the concert/fundraiser at the Living Room and for our toast at the Maritime Hotel--friends from near and far, from all corners of Mia's multifaceted life. When I was visiting Nina in Marbella this summer, she told me several times how glad she is that Mia shared her friends with her. I am feeling that too, now more than ever. Mia introduced me to so many beautiful people. Even in her absence, I cannot help but feel blessed.

One of Mia's friends who's here now is Raj, from Dubai. Raj and I first met a while back, sharing a great meal together with Mia at Peasant in NYC. He came to town another time, when I was away, and he and Mia ate at Il Buco. He took us to Nobu when he visited us in San Diego in March. (I know their friendship went beyond their shared love of fantastic food, of course, but that particular bond was strong--as anyone close to Mia can appreciate.) A few nights ago, Raj reminded me that he had gone to the clinic in Tijuana with Mia during that same springtime visit. They went down to TJ early so they could be sure to enjoy the breakfast buffet at a very nice hotel nearby the clinic. I'd been there with Mia many times, so I knew how she relished all the fresh fruit, the chilaquiles, the hand-made tortillas grilled into quesadillas, the refritos, the hongos, the nopales, the tomatillo salsa. Ai!

Lately I've been reading Annie Proulx's Fine Just the Way It Is, a book of short stories about hard people and hard times in the old American West. Proulx colorfully describes one pioneer who didn't survive as having gone to "the land of no breakfast forever." Wherever Mia's spirit is now, I'd wager anything and everything that it is not the land of no breakfast forever. Far from it.

23 September 2009

Toasting Mia in New York











Thank you Adam for the very special celebrations, the best tribute to Mia's wonderful life spirit- toast with friends, music, food and drinks on International Peace Day!!!

22 September 2009

Toasting Mia in Dubai



Mia was a source of positive energy. We loved being around her because she spoke with such honesty and embraced life with such enthusiasm.

When we thought about taking a job in Afghanistan everyone around us thought we were crazy. But Mia's response was,"YES! Go! You'll love it!" And you know what? She was right. We did go and we did love it. I have often thought that without her enthusiastic endorsement we may have missed out on one of the greatest experiences of our lives.

When we decided to get married Mia was there to celebrate with us. She and Claudia pulled out all stops to help us enjoy the day. Mia enjoyed our random, crazy wedding along with the rest of us, but in a much more sober state, until the sun came up. All the time just loving being there for the wackiness. When we decided to do it all over again in Vegas Mia was one of the first to say she would be there. Sadly she couldn't make it in the end.

Mia was part of our lives for such a short time, but she will always be a shiny light in some of the most important parts of it.

Love, Rose & Stu.


21 September 2009

ahi Mia Mia MIa




So good to read everyone's blogs, it's nice to feel connected to everyone Mia loved so much.
Here are some more morsels of Mia gold - she would have wanted us all to smile and laugh often and live, live life well, they way she did.

"have worked out that if i sit in the stair well i can get email and just about send if i am patient enough -
my ass hurts now though as so am gonna go to bed"

"I so wish we all lived in the same city - it would just be so cool .............. it's so hard that we are so
far from each other .. COÑO!!
"

" I feel like I am on a perpetual holiday in New York. I fucking love this city. "

" I feel able and strong and positive and know that life is full of miracles :"

"we are so blessed: between LOVE and CONE and LIFE we are women who have it all :-)"

"i want to be fanned by a hunky guy and bathe in the ocean and a wallow in a ridiculously large swimming pool ..
and get massages"

" Hey so I dropped my phone down the toilet - yes indeed."

" i just met and had a chat to Mike Moore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also saw the most amazing documentary. "pray the devil back to hell" - about women in liberia - it was so inspiring - so AMAZING!!!!!that was where i met mike. :) "

"Life is Weird"

"Okay - I know you guys are smiling and I am sending you with this e-mail the biggest, warmest hugs and whole atmospheres of love - I hope you choke on the amount of amor I am sending. "

I'm feeling the love Mia xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toast to Mia


"So cool, guys"

On Saturday evening, a quarter of Mia's ashes were scattered under the three ash trees that her friends Tiff and others have planted in a small clearing in the little bluebell wood in Newton Valence in Hampshire that overlooks the surrounding patchwork of hedgerows and green fields.

As we friends of Mia's gathered around a bonfire, there were a few tears, a little bit of laughter, together with poems, readings and fond memories as we exchanged anecdotes and raised our glasses of champagne to the lovely friend we all miss so much.

We were all pretty sure that she was somewhere nearby saying: “so cool, guys.”

Although I can't be in New York today, I'll be thinking of Mia and everyone who has gathered together over there this evening.

Remembering Mia

I remember Mia when I first met her in the airport in San Luis Obispo. She got off the plane with Adam and approached me with a delicious hug and a great big smile. That Thanksgiving week-end we got acquainted over Chai tea, we walked on the beach, and we all shared our holiday dinner. Adam asked me to make sure we had all the traditional foods since this would only be Mia's second Thanksgiving celebration in this country. Mia bridged the generation gap by spending time with our granddaughter, Cambria, helping her study Spanish and allowing Cambria to style her hair. We celebrated Adam's birthday and I hoped this would be the first of many celebrations we would have with Adam and Mia.
The following October, I visited Adam and Mia in New York and they introduced me to "their" Lower East Side. It was clear that Mia loved New York and was so happy to share it with me. She and I shared a lovely day at the Guggenheim Museum. I have a magnet on my refrigerator of a painting that we both enjoyed. Whenever I see that magnet, I remember that day with Mia.
I had a couple of visits with Mia in San Diego when she was there for treatment. I went to the clinic with her and was impressed by her bravery and positive attitude. We had some long talks and she told me of the amazing adventures she had had in so many places around the globe. I remember when she said that she would have no regrets because she had always done everything she had wanted to do. I've known people who had lived so many more than her 33 years and could not say that as they approached the end of their lives.
I'll never forget Mia, the woman who came into my son Adam's life and into mine for such a short time. She made a difference in our family just as she had everywhere she travelled. I pray that she is a peace.

Mia's day


I had planned to attend the toast at the Maritime tonight in Mia's honor, but, sadly, have to teach. I'll be thinking of you Mia. 6:30 pm tonight I'll raise a glass (of tea) to you. Wine after class...
I miss you terribly and hope that you are at peace.

Mia brought so much joy and relief to my own struggle with cancer. Up to stage 4 now, it's once again in remission and I'm back to life as usual. I won't forget Mia's request as she slid her arm under mine, held tight and said, "let's grow old together ok"?

Bless my darling Mia, may heaven be filled with peace and serenity-and delicious cappucinos.
Sending love to you and to all.
Here's to world peace - cheers
Kelly

20 September 2009

Wondering

I wonder where she went
With that big smile and all her bubbles
I wonder what she does
With all that energy and determination
I wonder how we heal
While building lives around a hole
I wonder if she watches
When we hurt and laugh and wonder
I wonder why she went
Whether someone had a bigger plan
I wonder when we’ll meet
Though somehow it happens every day





A few more photos worth sharing. I particularly like the one caught of her one night in the early a.m. when I was on the sofa at Mia and Adam's apartment ... I awoke to find Mia searching for something, covered only by a cork board!

Two of the others are of Max's baptism. What a happy child! hahaha.

In your honour






It’s taken me all these months to enter this site about Mia. After her passing I spent the summer in Brazil, in many ways escaping the intensity of her last weeks here in San Diego. All along I was somehow reluctant to log on for fear of the emotion it would provoke. Well today it did just that. Big time. Yet, I’m happy to have gone through it, because all the beautiful things written about her brought back only the best of memories. As if she were here again, I could see her sitting cross-legged in a café, looking fabulous while being relaxed and entertaining as only Mia could. Part of her charm was how naturally she fit in to every situation, and how her unassuming attitude made everyone around her feel so comfortable. Mia lit up the room, but had no airs about it at all.

I met Mia close to 14 years ago in Marbella, and we often hung out at the same social events with shared friends. Yet it wasn’t until I had the *privilege* to be her roommate in New York City that we really got to know each other as adults, and instantly became inseparable partners in crime. I found us an apartment in the LES before she ever arrived -- the perfect pad and neighborhood for two people each starting a new life in the city. Her passion for New York was insatiable and contagious. We were never bored and rarely at home, preferring to spend hours on end -- whole afternoons -- at our local bar/café on the corner of Clinton and Stanton, (which is where she met Adam).

I think Mia and I hit it off so well because of our common interests: We had passion for human rights work, media and journalism, (being fabulous and funny), and particularly a love of children. Mia had a knack for kids – they loved her, and she never stopped going on about her nieces and nephews. When I introduced her to my own nephew Max, his greetings to me immediately changed from “Yaay, Andy’s here!” to “Hi Andy, where’s Mia?”… I had been demoted! J We later became Max's godparents.

It was hard to trade NYC for San Diego, in large part because Mia made New York so much damn fun. Especially when the Marbella divas would come to town - boy how my stock in the neighborhood soared when seen walking down the street with that gorgeous clan!


Though I would have traded anything and everything for Mia’s health, it was, for me, a fortunate twist that she chose to undergo treatment in San Diego and Tijuana. So much of her last two years were spent here, and I’m blessed to have been near to her during her final months.

When I think of Mia, I often think of her unwavering determination, fueled largely by a Danish stubbornness that made her a fiercely independent thinker. When reflecting on the last five years of her life, one is more apt to describe her as the "bionic woman" rather than a cancer patient. Few could match her accomplishments. She uprooted her life and landed an internship with UNICEF in Geneva. She spent a summer in Mexico teaching photography to blind children. She was accepted into two of the most competitive Master’s program in the U.S.: Columbia and the New School. At the New School she completed her Master’s degree in the normal two years, despite prolonged absences while undergoing constant cancer treatment. (She didn't need to read the books, she would tell me ... 'cause through life experiences in Afghanistan and the Middle East, she knew it all already!) She married a rock star. And then worked at the Covenant House, a charity shelter for homeless children … and so much more!

In her own words: “I’m fucking magic!” Yup, my friend. You truly are.

... Mia, babe, I have no doubt that you are enjoying your new existence, that you are already in charge of making waves, moving mountains and re-arranging the planets and the stars.

You continue to inspire in life. & to evoke love. Te quiero, tía. Para siempre. Andy.


13 September 2009

Loca




World Peace Day soon, the girls downunder have taken some time off to spend the day together thinking about Mia and remembering all the things we love about her. Both Noemi and Finn have been talking about you of late and in that way that only children can, so matter of fact that you are gone, living with the angels and therefore always here. So close an yet so far. Miss you everyday angel. Looking forward to spending a day in your honor remembering all the great times.

31 August 2009

BabyCakes.

BabyCakes NYC was Mia's favorite bakery in the City. They specialize in sweet treats that suit just about any diet imaginable -- refined-sugar free, gluten free, wheat free, soy free, vegan, kosher. BabyCakes will be honoring Mia's memory by donating a portion of sales of her favorite dessert, Agave-Sweetened Brownies, to the Ocular Melanoma Foundation for the entire month of September. If ever there was a time to indulge your sweet tooth, this is it.

BabyCakes NYC
248 Broome St.
New York, NY 10002
tel: 212/677-5047

24 August 2009

Rocking and running.



Hi all. I wanted to check in here, and give everyone an update on things.

These two gorgeous photos are by Todd Chalfant. He recently discovered them among his files, and I thought you'd all appreciate these images of our lovely. I believe they were shot sometime in 2008.

I'm organizing a fundraiser for the Ocular Melanoma Foundation. It will be at the Living Room in NYC on Sunday, 20 September. The night will feature some of Mia's favorite local musicians—Nels Andrews, Milton, Pete and J, Bill Sims Jr, and my own Mint Imperials. There will be raffle prizes, and some special prizes will be available via silent auction. (Shhh! It's silent.) If you can't attend the event, but would like to make a donation to the OMF in Mia's name, follow this link. Tickets are available at the Living Room and from TicketWeb.

I'm going to be running the Dublin Marathon at the end of October, along with Mia's dear friend Lucinda. I'm running this race to challenge myself, not to raise funds for a cause. However, if you happen to think it's awesome that we're going to hoof 26.2 miles, feel free to make a donation to the link above.

Thanks again for all your sharing, all your love, and all your support.

~Adam

15 August 2009

A note from Hilde.

Dear everybody on this blog. First of all thank you for all your letters and photos, it has been such a comfort to me for the past three months — thank you!
(Sorry for all the mistakes in my English — hopefully you will bear with that.)

Dear Mie.
It has taken me a long time to get to what I want to tell you on this blog — because of the foreign language, but also because it has taken me some time to get my thoughts about you into words.
As I have been your sister in law for nearly 27 years, married to your brother Eric, I have known you since you were only a little girl six years old. But for all those years, you have always lived and travelled far away from our land and life and there for — as I wrote to you in May, you have been in our minds and our talks hundreds of times more than you have actually been to our home. We usually saw you maybe one or two times a year, and because of that I think it will take us a very long time to realize that we are not going see you anymore ….. we are so used to missing you!
But in that way you will always remain the same to us : An adventurer travelling around the world — now including the whole universe!

I want to thank you for all what you have been to your nieces Laura and Anna. You have been such a great example to them, and I’m sure that thy will somehow ” walk in your footsteps,” studying and travelling around the world hopefully for humanitarian reasons.
Anna had the pleasure to travel with you and Marcos to the Caribbean island St. Lucia 4 years ago — sweet memories! Anna and you had dreams about going to India and other exotic places together. I’m so sorry that you didn’t get the chance!

Both our girls have been looking so much forward to visit you and your lovely Adam in NY. Somehow we for the last two or three years have had the thought, that you after some more fighting would get rid of your disease. We couldn’t bear to see what was coming!
Next October Nina and Adam have invited Laura over there to see all your places….we are so grateful for that!

Both girls have been dreaming several times about you in nighttime. Two nights ago Laura dreamed that you sent her a text saying: ”I have to go on — please don’t feel sorry just smile, smile, smile….” — we’ll do our best!

Tomorrow, the 16’th of august we are 18 people from Denmark — family and friends of you, going on a big boat to spread the Danish part of your ashes and a lot of flowers into the sea, while singing some nice songs for you. Afterwards we will celebrate you with a nice picnic, sweet stories of your life and more music.


Last Christmas you gave us Tina Dickow’s latest CD “A Beginning, a Detour and an Open Ending.” She is a brilliant Danish singer and song-writer! Listing to her music will always remind us of you, and next Saturday we are going to join her in a live concert — that will be our private celebration of all the good memories you left — we will never ever forget you!!

Love from Hilde

02 August 2009

Mia moment in the UK, 19th Sept



We are organising a Mia moment to scatter the UK portion of her ashes. We will be gathering at the trees we planted for Mia in some woods in Hampshire at 5.30pm on Sept 19th (near Alton, approx an hour outside London). No guarantees of Californian sunshine but there will be a big bonfire, plenty of good stories, Mia lovc in the air and cocktails...

In true Mia style - everyone is invited! - so do get in contact if you would like to join us.

25 July 2009

Weather with you.


Mayor of the Lower East Side.
New York City. August 2008.

Late July in New York City. The weather ought to be brutally hot and sticky, but it's remarkably cool and breezy. It has been for most of the past two weeks since I've been back. Mia would be *loving* this. Perfect weather for sipping coffee at a sidewalk table outside Brown; perfect weather for spreading a blanket in Central Park and reading the Sunday papers; perfect weather for a long walk through Soho to the "faraway bakery"; perfect weather for cooking a nice supper at home (it's too much to fire up the oven when the New York heat really kicks in). Mostly, it's just perfect weather for smiling all big and badass, and laughing at something—anything—which is exactly what Mia would be doing right now.

20 July 2009

Freedom! Freedom!


Mia & Richie.
Backstage at Bodles. Chester, NY. January 2008

Mia loved live music shows, and also loved to get out of the city and into the grassy countryside nearby. This day she got to do both. I had a gig with our friend Amber, opening for Richie Havens at Boodles Opera House in Chester—about 60 miles north of NYC. While Amber and I did our soundcheck, Mia found a patch of shade in a meadow behind the venue. She sat there a long while, writing in her journal, enjoying the greenspace and the quiet—until Amber and I found her hiding place. Then, she got to watch Amber and me play to a crowd of true music lovers, and then—then—she got to enjoy the incredible folk mojo of Richie Havens, who she’d known nothing about. She grooved to his songs of freedom, and laughed at his stories. (Particularly his riff on the intro to the old Superman TV show—“Truth, justice, and the American way. And the American way?”) We got to hang out with Richie after the show, and I think the two of them discovered that they may have been descendents from the same planet. Krpton, maybe?

19 July 2009

Flight plan—new evidence.


Some of you may have seen my 30 May posting (Flight plan) with the photo of Mia floating above Auld Lang Syne revelers in New York City. Newly discovered evidence suggests that she may have been practicing this feat for many years.

17 July 2009

So Mia, even way back then.



A girl and her dog.
Somewhere in Denmark (I presume). November 1979

Grace is reality.



Trying on wedding bands (sized for big love) at South Street Seaport, just before sunrise.
New York City, NY. December 2008

I’m back in New York City now, in 7A—our cozy little nest on the Lower East Side. I’ve returned from my Soul Journey to Spain and the UK, where I shared countless tears and smiles with Mia’s family and friends. My trip included so many beautiful moments. In Marbella, Spain, I savored caviar with John and Nina at Casa Jasmin (this was Mia’s idea!). I celebrated the eve of San Juan with Ele, toasting to Mia while a beachfront bonfire blazed on. I lunched with Debbie and the Sweeney clan at the infamous Madd House. I went down to Tarifa with Tori and Maui, where we chilled poolside with Morgan at Pachamama; then Tori and I cleansed ourselves with mystic mud on the dual shores of the Atlantic and Mediterranean. All that and more—more friends, more stories, more celebratory food and drink—filled just the first few days of my trip.

My next stop was Umbertide, Italy, for a week-long songwriting retreat with 16 other writers. Maybe I’ll talk more about that week another time, but suffice to say Mia’s spirit was there—inspiring me and loving the amazing food and the bottomless cups of espresso, of course. Joder!

Then I went to England for more connectivity. Lucinda and I rode out to Stert for a lovely evening with Joe and her family, stopping on the way to visit the three trees Luce recently planted with Tiff, Joe, and the Charlies. John and I shared our favorite stories of Mia over an elegant meal at Claridege’s. I visited Rikke and her beautiful boys in Andover, then raised a pint of the good stuff (with salt and vinegar crips) there at the Town Mills pub. Back in London, Natalie, Luce, Piers, and I rocked a Mia-approved dinner of burgers and beers at the New York-style Automat, then raised a few more glasses afterward at the swanky Donovan. Mia wanted to be celebrated, and we were doing our damnedest.

Paris was next, for a quick visit with a dear old friend of mine who got to know Mia only via email—though Mia could communicate richly in her emails, as most everyone on this blog knows. Mia and I stayed in his Parisian flat once on holiday, and she and I spoke several times about taking another trip there. We never had the chance, but we did watch Two Days in Paris a few times for fun.

Finally, I returned to Marbella for two more days with family at Nina’s house. Eric and Hilde were there, along with their daughters Anna and Laura and a few of Laura’s close friends; Tobias was there too. Mia’s first husband, Marcos, came by for lunch. It was a pleasure to meet Marcos—he’s all heart. Very late that night, the family had a burial celebration for the Spanish quarter of Mia’s ashes. (Her remains are divided between her four home territories—Denmark, Spain, England, and New York.) We buried the urn under an Arbol de Amor tree in Nina’s garden. We raised our glasses of beer—some Danish beer and some Spanish—and even poured one down for Mia to enjoy. The family sang a Swedish song with these lyrics (translated), “Who can row without an oar? Who can sail without wind? Who can part from a dear friend without a tear on your chin? I can row without an oar. I can sail without wind. But I can’t part from a dear friend without a tear on my chin.” Then they asked me to sing one of my songs. I didn’t have a guitar handy, so I spoke my song “Long Way Gone” as a lyric poem. It was one of Mia’s favorites from my repertoire, one I’d sung for her many times.

Now, at last, I’m home, but it’s not quite “home” without Mia here to awaken with in the morning. Mornings were a special time for us. Sometimes we’d get up a little before sunrise, walk along South Street Seaport, grab a bagel and takeaway coffee, then watch the sky put on its morning magic show. Then we’d come back to 7A, where Mia would make us big fruit bowls and a carafe of intense coffee. Nor is it the same here without Mia in the afternoon. I’d come home from my daily run and find her on the sofa, smiling, a cup of PG Tips close at hand, her Mac laptop atop her lap. She’d be Skyping with a faraway friend, researching something that had piqued her curiosity, or looking at cheap flights for a holiday. Evenings aren’t the same now either. She and I would watch the sunset from our apartment, with our living room and kitchen awash in peach colors. When the sun was gone, we’d curl up on the sofa to watch our latest Netflix delivery—a new movie with bold ideas, or a silly comedy, or some favorite classic—then we’d make dinner together. I’d be in charge of the hot food (gluten-free capellini with puttanesca sauce, or a lamb stew in wintertime, or Thai-style fish cakes); she’d do the cold (a fresh salad, with each veg cut just right and a tangy dressing with mustard and fresh herbs). Then maybe I’d be off to one of my late-night gigs. (It’s not uncommon in NYC for a gig to start at 10:00 or 11:00 p.m.) I’d come home very late and find Mia in bed. Even in her deepest sleep, she’d know I was home and was trying to join her without waking her. As soon as I’d settle in alongside her, Mia would wrap her arm around me—or pull mine around her—without saying a word, then drift back into whatever beautiful dream she was in the middle of. The gesture was so simple, but I’ve never felt so loved than in those moments when she’d silently welcome me home and we’d rejoin each other as one.

As I write this, I’ve been drinking Egyptian licorice mint tea. It’s from a box of Yogi Tea I bought for Mia many months ago. As with all Yogi teas, there’s an inspirational note on the teabag tab. This one says, “Life is a chance. Love is infinity. Grace is reality.” Someone at Yogi must’ve known Mia.

15 July 2009

Mia's Garden Flourishes






I wanted a place to go each day, a place to remember Mia. I planted a small garden of brightly colored flowers. That garden is flourishing, growing and changing each day just as Mia did throughout her life.









Sunday in LES without Mia


Weekend coffee with Mia somewhere in LES was a givenwhen we were both in town.

This Sunday I woke up thinking "Uhm, wanna give Mia a call so we can have coffee and catch up, it's been too long".

I cried when I remembered, and realized that it will be even longer. Miss you!

14 July 2009

Recognition far and wide

look what I came across ....

http://oakvillehomes.wordpress.com/2009/05/29/mia-jarlov-1976-2009/