{"id":5388,"date":"2020-04-26T19:29:07","date_gmt":"2020-04-26T10:29:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/?p=5388"},"modified":"2020-04-26T19:36:01","modified_gmt":"2020-04-26T10:36:01","slug":"all-he-meant-to-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/2020\/04\/26\/all-he-meant-to-me\/","title":{"rendered":"All he meant to me"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Spring is bursting out everywhere and it is <\/em>glorious . . . but it somehow seems at odds with the ways many of us are feeling in this coronavirus pandemic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Only spring isn’t at odds with anything. It is what it is . . . as is the coronavirus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The current moment reminds me of a spring a few years back. I have a lot of Facebook friends who are people I went to high school with. Some of them I remember very well, some not so well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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There was one guy, though, who I hadn’t known all that well back then, but became interested in reading about on Facebook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we’d been in high school, he’d lived just up the street from me, maybe a quarter a while away, but he’d been a couple of years younger than me, and I just hadn’t know him very well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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On Facebook, though, I saw that he was an artist, a painter—perhaps he’d been one all his life, I didn’t really know—but his paintings intrigued me. I felt I could see something inside him<\/em> when I looked at them, and the something I could see inside him seemed a lot like a something I could see inside me.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I<\/em> felt a connection, that’s for sure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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And then he passed away. Apparently, he’d been in poor health for a while, maybe for a long time. He must have been in his mid- to late-fifties.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It tore me up inside. I really grieved. . . . And I didn’t even know who he was, not really—just knew what he could paint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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It was May. The azaleas were in full bloom all over Shizuoka City–far, far away from the United States of America, and I wanted to cry, and I think I did cry, actually—a little, anyway, and I picked up my ukulele, started strumming Em and Dm . . . and wrote this song. I’m not sure why I changed the “he” to “she,” but I did.<\/p>\n\n\n

My best friend . . . she passed away<\/em><\/p>\n

All the while . . . the azaleas stayed ablaze<\/em><\/p>\n

Unlike me . . . they stood unfazed<\/em><\/p>\n

Oh, those colors . . . how they did amaze<\/em><\/p>\n

Then I . . . could see . . . all . . . that she meant to me<\/em><\/p>\n

Yes, I . . . could see . . . all . . . that she meant to me<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

You can watch the YouTube music video here<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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(from Persimmon Dreams: When you\u2019ve got a spare moment, check out our music\/nature videos on our \u201cPersimmon Dreams\u201d YouTube channel, or Steve\u2019s books, When a Sissy Climbs a Mountain in May<\/a> and Along the Same Street<\/a>, available on Amazon, or directly from us. And if you enjoyed this post, consider sharing with others. Thank you!)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Spring is bursting out everywhere and it is glorious . . . but it somehow seems at odds with the ways many of us are feeling in this coronavirus pandemic. Only spring isn’t at odds with anything. It is what it is . . . as is the coronavirus. The current moment reminds me of … Continue reading All he meant to me<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5388","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5388","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5388"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5388\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5403,"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5388\/revisions\/5403"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5388"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5388"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/persimmon-dreams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5388"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}