Kendall T. Murphy - Ken-man to me - beloved friend and dear husband to my Chakra circle sister Sarita Chawla passed away last November 24, 2009. Ken was a strong supporter of the birth and field of Offerings. He and Sarita helped to fund our beginnings. He visited and participated in our blog space quite a bit, especially in the theme on  “Women & Politics”. He always searched, evoked, provided the holistic perspective in every conversation. We will miss his voice, but his spirit for inviting as many varied perspectives on any issue lives on in us. Fly high, Ken-man!

I feel Ken quite a lot. He flits in and out of my consciousness during the day for some reason. He was my mother’s age. Perhaps there is a connection here as my mother has recenty decided to get off the chemo merry-go-round, rejecting another round, and we’re going the rest of the way au natural. Deep in the Mystery, she seems at peace with this decision, has begun to reappear at the many civic functions she has always loved & been a part of, careful to not over extend her energy, though it is energizing for her to be so joyfully received back in their arms and to be in the juicy dialogues that take place. My sister and I sometimes go with her and she is just so, so loved!

And we are all working in our unique ways to let go of our attachment to how long she will stay with us in physical form. There is crying at times at the breakfast table, where we always gather to begin our day together, reviewing what everyone is up to that day, errands to run, a niece to pick up from school, or what was in the news (other than the local Philippine news, they watch CNN’s “Situation Room” every morning).

There will be soft silent tears streaming down my father’s cheeks, mostly when my mom hasn’t come down to join us yet. It’s our own private moments without her…

At times, we process the crying with her when she comes down. Or not.

We’ll be mopping up our faces dry and blowing into tissue, in mid-conversation about life and death kinds of things and one of them will get distracted by the banana they’re eating and the other follows and we’re off to a 20minute conversation journey through the season for ripe bananas and how hard or soft, sweet or tart, small or big they each want their banana to be, from whom they like to buy them from to how one patient/friend of my father always used to give them bananas to how this friend is doing these days and where his grandkids are living and who of us kids was his son or daughter’s classmate to how their business of really nice bathroom fixtures used to be close by. Sometimes, the conversation goes back to the question of how my mother wants to live the rest of her life, sometimes, it goes back to the bananas. Or coconuts. Or mangoes. Or the latest news on this or that presidential candidate or on the debate over the Church’s (Catholic) stand on abortion in the Healthcare Bill. My sister and I catch each other across the table silently sometimes, and we sigh, giggle, laugh.

Hope your table conversations are just as fun, poignant and sweet. I know Ken would have loved being at ours….probably has been at ours!