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Daily Archives: May 17, 2020

The Fedora

The Fedora

I remember standing in front of my Grandfather’s casket at the funeral home completely perplexed as to why I wasn’t crying. My Stepmom, Lynn, observantly noticed my furrowed brow and the confusion in my eyes as I looked at him. She put her hand on my shoulder, and,”Jordan, you appear confused. Care to share?” I nodded, never taking my gaze off of him, and, “That’s not him. He was full of life. He was a best friend to me. Why aren’t I crying. It feels disrespectful.”

She nodded and quietly leaned in a little. “Jordan, it’s ok. Everyone grieves differently, and often, everyone grieves differently each time. Reason can be unreasonable here. Keep doing what you’re doing right now. It’s palpable. I can feel it.”

I cherish that moment, have carried the treasure of that perspective with me since. It firmly felt to be Acceptance with the quaternity of the other 4 grief stages as its heartbeat. Then to now, that moment is still the same, frozen in time, like trauma is always fresh. Though, this trauma, this influence, was treasure.

That afternoon, back at their home, my Grandmother took my hand and led me into their closet. Once in, she actually pennied the door shut or some such, basically locking me in. “I’m not letting you out until you steep in there a bit. I know how much you loved him. I know how much he loved you. We were married for 66 years when he went. I’m not letting you out of there until you steep in that feeling you’re having. It’s strong. And, I’m not letting you out until you find that one thing of his you feel to keep with you. You find that keepsake, Jordy, and I’ll set you free, but not a moment before, not up for discussion. Go on. Find it. Find what you need.”

I was in there a while. And, then I saw it. His brown and green tweed fedora from his 1st trip to New York in 1927. I’d always thought it was so dapper and dandy and all those great words from the 20s, and I was in my Roaring 20s. For the first time, I noticed his initials inside. ERH. I had never seen them before in the hat as it was always on his head, or flipped off and plop-dropped on the hat hook inside their front door.

I smiled.

Plopped it on just so like he did with a little flourish on the brim.

Knocked on the wood door of my prison bars from the inside, rattled my own cage.

“Ok, Nanny.”

“No foolin’ around here, Jordy. I mean it now.”

“Nanny. Ok. I’m ready.”

She opened the door, emancipated me with my new-to-me fedora.

She had never left. Sat on the side of the bed the whole time listening, listening in powerful, unseen witness vigil. Thank you, Nanny.

Such support.

Such support.

Thank you Nanny & Earl, and Lynn.

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The Fedora. It’s my fave hat.

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Credit to Dr. Eric Perry’s post Understanding the Grief & Loss Cycle for inspiring The Fedora. I was glad to be reminded.

The 5 Stages of Grief are:

1. Denial

2. Anger

3. Bargaining

 4. Depression

5. Acceptance

Grief outline portion © 2020 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Dr. Eric Perry

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Like My Grandmother Used to Say

If you don’t have anything good to say about someone, keep quiet. Unless, of course, it’s hilarious. Then, by all means, let ‘er rip!

Well, the time came from an experience yesterday, and now today, to apply my Grandmother’s rockin’ wisdom directly. I visited a Philosophy site yesterday to read an Art & Intention post. And, contrary to popular belief, WHOA, God’s last name actually might BE dammit. Who fucking knew? I, for one, was surprised.

I had commented on the post, and OOPS MY BAD, liked and commented on a commenters’s comment…

Comment here:

Neil Rickert

Art is far removed from my expertise. So take this as just a casual comment.

I have tended to think of art as presenting a challenge to perception. If we want to connect art with intention, then it would seem to me that the intention of the perceiver is more important than the intention of the artist.

Reply
  • Jordan Hoggard

    Jordan Hoggard
    Neil Rickert

    I full-on agree, Neil. Once the artist lets their work loose, their perspective and intent is null. it is, then, far more important the way the work comes across, and that falls into the domain of the perceiver as you indicate.

Which, by the way, the commenter himself and someone else liked — note the 2 likes for evidentiary purposes. Pardon, I have my Defense Attorney hat on for the Asshat of Daniel Kaufman, the moderator of the blog. Cool title, though the coolness stops there, as… THIS gem then appeared from the Blog Dictator. The 1st syllable of Dictator fits. Effin Richard Cranium fo’ sho’.

Given your attitude — and excessive familiarity with people whom you don’t know — I have decided to not respond further. Carter has written a terrific essay, and I’m looking forward to seeing what others have to say about it.

Seriously? Excessive familiarity with people whom I don’t know… and, that person who I am being excessively familiar with that I don’t know Liked the comment + someone else as well.  WOW, I didn’t know I groped one of his his readers. Maybe I should be more self-aware and respectful of others in the future? LOL. Guess that’s his job. I smile that the commenter like my comment + another as well. I clicked Unfollow before the bindu of that same breath apogeed No time needed for that decision. More like the decision-action DUCK!

I guess that the Old Guard of The Hierophant on a bad day, the stubborn, unbending Traditionalist of the angry, old, undersexed, Patriarchal white man has NOT in fact died out. It is a living, breathing STUFFY thing to this day. That’s too bad.

CacaRoaches just won’t go away, huh? I do hope my Grandmother approves of this use of her wisdom. I will send a celestial groove cosmic request to Moira and Pallas-Athena to pay him a visit and play some chess to his checkers. He just feels like a low-grade, unevolved Mars. Read in: petty, tantrum-throwing toddler of a boy SOOOO needy immersed in hi Pouting Temple, aka Ivory Tower. I graduate-emancipated from that hole decades ago. Actually, 2nd semester Freshman year In college when I was invited into a graduate level Philosophy class. I remember it well. PHIL5364 – The Image and Reality of Man and the Machine in Modern Literature taught by Joe Ransdell, Chair of the Philo Dept. It was a stunningly wonderful semester in that class. I, a Frosh, Architecture student. The other 11, graduate Philo, Math, Linguistic, and Physics students. I remember my 30-page paper well. Change the Program, Change the Outcome: Change the Inner, Change the Outer, based, founded in, the movie Altered States.

This blog Post to an extent is certainly a bit snarky, though sometimes a quick without-a-warning broken nose is better than Just shying away. There are consequences to how something comes across. And, there you go. This blog post is more a consequence than a creation. I’ll have to ask myself tomorrow whether it is reactionary or responsive. It’ll just have to sit wise in its own time for now.

You see, my Philosophy, and I enforce it — 1st time in a long time, though — my Philosophy is, Be peaceful, but let Motherfuckers know. It’s pretty simple really. Everybody’s good at something. And, when that someone is just really good at being a dick, then they are. That’s on them that their actions.efforts/words caused consequences. Seems to me people who adult, and most kids for that matter, understand that if you touch the hot stove, effin OUCH. Yup, I suggest people who are dicks vet their environment more thoroughly, turn up their radar. It’s on them when they overstep. I’m certainly not Wiley Coyote if I step over the edge, don;t get to float there until I realize OH SHIT before gravity unpauses.

Either way, As Above, So Below. So, I place these card images as a Blog Talisman to protect my work below from the above. It’s not superstitious if it works. And, if nothing happens, who’s to say?  Hmmmm… looking back, I should’ve seen the snake in the grass at WHOM.

Oh well, OFL. Opportunity For Learning.

Sometimes, it takes a little controversy. I’m good with that.

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ImaginAction. Your Value, Your Call.

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(c) 2020 Jordan Hoggard

 

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