The Worst of Times, The Best of Times...

2007 was one of the hardest years of my life. My father told me, and my five siblings in January of last year, that he was losing his long battle to survive cancer. He made it to April. The time in between was hell, especially for my sisters who live near him in Oregon. I drove down there as often as I could, and it wasn't enough. The letting go was hard and cruel. There isn't much good to say about it, except that he died at home with the windows to his beloved garden open, and with daughters around him who loved him in a huge and complete and unconditional way. My father was an athlete, a gardener, and a healthy guy. To the last weeks he was managing many things well, and with grace.

During the year I was dancing a lot, learning the music, and working hard towards an exhibit. The dances that I had gave me comfort that cannot be imagined. The embrace, the music with it's theme of love and loss. There is a new found knowledge that the temporal quality of life, of experience in this realm, has it's place in art. I shed many tears of pain, and many of joy.

Tomorrow is the Feast of the Three Kings, or Dia de Los Reyes. The last day of Christmas. As a kid, my parents reserved a small gift for us on this day. As small people feeling the post holiday let-down, it was very sweet. We went to church and celebrated in small ways this day when the kings brought gifts to the baby king. Gold, frankincense, myrhh. Today I clean my house, burn frankincense, make three kings bread, and ready myself to have a small milonga, hosted by me, Alan, and tanguera Tina, here in this little place on earth. My toast is to the friends and partners who have kept me sane, and sometimes even joyful, during a very hard time. I am no longer a practicing catholic, but I know a gift when it comes to me. Tango, and the people of tango, the friends of the tango, of Argentina, the musicians, the poetry, and my non-tango friends and family, those are the gifts.