poteat island – happy birthday dr. poteat!

“Love Will Keep Us Alive…”
-The Eagles

from the album, Hell Freezes Over

Poteat Island

Beware:  This post is longer than some papers I wrote in college.  I believe it is worth the read, but don’t say you were not warned.  If you don’t have time to read this now, make sure you have a look at Hubie’s Lights!

My clients for this drawing are the spirited and lovable Morgan, a friend of mine from Wake Forest, and her sweet sister, Hannah, who is currently living in California attending law school.  I have always been taken by the incredible energy, infectious laugh, and raw honesty that Morgan exudes but found myself lucky enough to get to know her far better over the last couple of years after my move from DC to Durham.  Morgan was living in Raleigh at the time, and soon after my move, she asked me over for a glass of wine, which initiated and renewed our kindred connection.  I am so thankful for the last 2 years that I have had to spend more time with her.  I remember being at her house in Raleigh when her sister, Hannah, and her mom, also Hannah, were about to leave on a trip to visit schools in California.  What I recall most about that day is watching Hannah play freeze-tag with Charlie, Morgan’s son, and thinking that the magnetic energy and enthusiasm I see in Morgan must be genetic!

While it would be true to say that this drawing is symbolic of the Poteat LIFE in general, the specific occasion for its creation is TODAY.  October 30, 2009 is the 63rd Birthday of Morgan and Hannah’s sweet Daddy, Dr. Bob Poteat.  The day of his birth marked the beginning of this story of LOVE, a story of many including:  the love for a beautiful woman, the love for a neglected piece of land, the love for a tree, and the love for a little boy.  His birth is where it all begins, and so in honor of his birthday, I share this story with you:

The Island
This “home” drawing is really what home is all about if you are spending quality time there, for it is not the view of the home from the outside, but the view from the inside, looking out.  Specifically, the little island that you see here is the view from the Poteat’s lake house on Lake Gaston in North Carolina where they spend a considerable amount of time when not in Raleigh.  Their little haven is so special to the family and holds years of memories and stories.  I included what I believe are oak and dogwood trees, which frame their view from the porch above.  It is here where the family spends most of their evenings, quietly admiring the sunset, thinking back over their days and their lives.  As my story will only modestly show, there is much to contemplate during their sunsets each evening.

Let’s begin with this little island, which, along with the Lake, is owned by NC Power.  Because it was deteriorating and there was a blowhole through the center, Dr. Poteat and his wife decided to bulkhead the island.  NC Power officials were perplexed as to why they were going to spend their own money to preserve land they didn’t own, but I think this speaks volumes to the resiliency, strength, and character of this family.  So, they built the bulkhead, but in 1996 Hurricane Fran destroyed the eastern side.  What did they do?  They re-built the bulkhead of course.  In 1999 Hurricane Floyd again destroyed the western side of the bulkhead, and so this time, they installed rip rap.   For me, this is odd foreshadowing and quite symbolic for this family’s incredible ability to survive and even thrive the aftermath of life’s worst storms.

When restoring the bulkhead Hannah and Morgan’s little brother, Hubie, and their Dad did most of the stonework.  Dr. Poteat created a ramp at the end of their dock that led to a pontoon boat onto which they loaded the rip rap and pea gravel.  They then drove the barge over to the island and off-loaded while Morgan and her Mom worked to place the rip rap along the front of the bulkhead and pea gravel behind the bulkhead and remaining island.  Talk about power family!   I love this enthusiastic teamwork.  According to Morgan, the pea gravel captured dirt and sediment from waves over the subsequent years and is now starting to fill the island back in.

Behold the island is back ALIVE… and that is not all.  The Poteat family has observed a plethora of wildlife creating habitats on and around the little island: “A pair of Canadian Geese nest there yearly, and they watch the newborn goslings plop into the water every spring.  There is a heron that fishes from the stumps at the end of the island, and Kingfishers, Osprey and an occasional Eagle use the island as a base for their foraging.  Beavers and turtles are often seen swimming back and forth from the island to mainland, and Bass fishermen cannot seem to pass the island without casting a time or two in hopes of a striper.”

Morgan’s mom describes the life of evening sunsets that was also born out of the Island’s preservation:  “Bob thought it was important to preserve the island for our enjoyment.  If we had allowed the deterioration to continue, we would have had an eyesore of fallen trees and stumps instead of the heart soothing island that frames our sunset views.” And so, I share with you a drawing of this island, and you now understand the significance of the first color element:  the Bulkhead.  Somehow, a part of me wishes that the story ends here, but it does not, and so I move on.  There is a wealth of wisdom that begs to be heard here, so listen carefully.

The Pussy Willow Tree:
In 1997 the Poteat family planted a Weeping Willow tree in memory of Mrs. Poteat’s father who passed away that fall.  A summer storm in 2003 broke the tree (again, the storms!), and on December 16th of that same year, this family was changed in an instant when Hubie was killed in a car accident.

Like September 11, 2001, I remember where I was sitting when I received this news.  I was working in the Art and Architecture Store at UVA in my final year of graduate school, and my heart sank when I read the email.  I cannot imagine losing my sister, and I know that the relationship that Morgan and Hubie shared was as close as mine is with Leslie.  What I also know is that there was incredibly strong bond forged between Hubie and his parents.  I traveled to Raleigh for the funeral, and the picture I recall most is the pain in the face of Dr. Poteat.  I believe it takes a very strong man to wear his pain so proudly in memory of his son.

I do not tell you this to evoke tears or bad memories, but rather, to show you an incredible story of resiliency.  I think that sometimes the people who live the greatest sadness and pain also live the greatest joy and peace.  At least, this is what I have seen in the Poteat family over the past 6 years, and this is what you will read about in the remainder of this post.

The point here is to tell you that after Hubie’s death, the family planted a Pussy Willow (in replacement of the original Weeping Willow) in his honor.  They had to re-plant this tree 3 times, although this time not because of storms, but because of beavers!  Evidently the beavers really like the Pussy Willows.  That’s what Morgan tells me anyway.  Today, the tree is protected by wire fencing and is growing strong at the end of the island.  Hence, the tree is the second color element of our drawing.

The Quote:
If you have not heard Love Will Keep Us Alive by the Eagles in a while, you can find an incredibly beautiful rendition of it here.

Morgan selected this passage on her own and so clearly put a significant amount of thought and heart into her choice.  She tells me that her Mom and Dad have always loved loved this song.  As she notes, the lyrics are clearly meant to reflect the love between a man and a woman, but for the Poteat family, there are many more meanings and implications.  This first meaning, the way the Eagles meant it, as Morgan tells me “speaks between my parents that love will sustain them even if they have nothing else.”

Hannah, that beautiful woman whom I mentioned in the very beginning, is the woman Dr. Poteat fell in love with.  Her beautiful piercing eyes are same ones that you see in Morgan and in her granddaughters.  You can tell after only a few minutes of talking with her that her soul is deep and that there is much to be learned from this woman.  Surely, this speaks to the fine characters she raised in her 2 daughters and her son.  To start as a full person is the first step in a beautiful relationship, and she embodies this perfectly.  So, add Dr. Poteat, a dynamic character in his on rite, and we have this magical chemistry of a couple, who seem to transcend a room.

I have come to fully believe that there is no better gift that a father and mother can give children than to put their own relationship before everything else.  In so doing, they are teaching their children valuable lessons about the power of relationships, of communication, of teamwork, of connection, of problem-solving, of independence, of commitment, and of course, of love.  I believe that it is this foundation, which enabled this couple to move through and survive the death of their son.

So surely, their pain was and most likely still is greater than any of us could imagine if we have not experienced the same.  Still, I believe, through watching them and listening to Morgan that they not only have survived, they have thrived.  They moved through this storm together, and they found their own peace during a time when I have sadly seen similar storms tear families apart.  I watch them in awe, and I aspire to create this kind of foundation in my life, not only for me and for my husband, but most importantly, for my children.  They have given their daughters strength simply through the lessons of their own actions, through the energy of their connection.

Their love and their partnership sustained the love that kept the island alive… the love that kept the trees alive, and the love that keeps the memories of their own parents and their son alive.  Morgan explains to her own 3 children that that Hubie lives in their hearts because they love him and remember him, and that all originated from her own mother and father.

I think that Morgan’s words sum it all up best in her email to me after she saw this drawing for the first time.  She wrote:
“My whole life it was made clear to me that as long as there was love things would be okay.  When “Hell Feezes Over” was released in fall of 1994 that song immediately spoke to my Dad.  I heard that song played on all Dad’s evening/dinner music mixes at the lake for years after.  It is one of those songs where visions of different moments at the lake flash through my head whenever I hear it played.  Seeing the picture reminds me that the island is alive out of love, the pussy willow (despite efforts of the beavers) is alive out of love, Hubie’s memory is alive and well out of love, and my parents have survived the loss of a son out of love.”

Sublime Generosity:
Last week, I was digging through all of my books of poetry and prose, searching for great quotes to use in my new line of Holiday Cards.  With certain serendipity, I somehow opened my (very thick) book of Rumi poetry to the poem, which you will read below.  Poetry is not embraced by all, but regardless of your love for the genres, I encourage you to read this one through several times and consider its meaning to this story and to your own life.  My initial, cursory, and somewhat “accidental” reading caused my quick loss of breath upon seeing a line specifically about a willow tree.  My second reading brought tears down my face as I understood the description of the power of love.  My third reading literally brought me to sobs as I felt Rumi recount a recent conversation that I had about death.

I was discussing with someone over email my thoughts on the deaths of young and particularly vibrant, creative, and wholly energetic souls.  The conversation was initiated by the anniversary of the death of his friend, Will, who was taken by cancer.  His description of Will reminded me so much of other incredibly young souls who were taken after only a short lifetime on Earth:  Maia, Julie, Bob, Michael, Aldo (whose birthday, incidentally, is also today), and David.  I told my friend that: (I had to go look this back up because I knew I would not remember.)

“Life is far too short not to tell people how we feel and to live (each day) the complete essence and spirit of who we are… It seems that is exactly what Will did.  Sometimes, I think that when souls like his are taken so early in life, it is because they have already proven that they ‘get it’, and in causing those around them to pause due to their own untimely death, the larger world around them is reminded of this importance.  I have seen this very similar ‘light’ in several other young people who passed away so early… and seen the effect on those around them (myself included).  Of course, this cannot encompass it all, but it is a start.”

To me, and I think that his family would agree, this was how Hubie lived… just that… he LIVED. (and you will see his LIGHT later this afternoon!)  I think of Morgan telling me about a trip to the grocery store that she took with Hubie and her son Charlie just a month or so before Hubie died.  Hubie had Charlie in the Grocery cart and would get a running start and then jump onto the cart and fly down the aisles to Charlie’s delight.  What a phenomenal uncle he was, and I am sure that the Poteats have countless other stories to share with his 2 nieces and nephew.

I was looking back on some of my old journal entries again the other day (shocker) and read something that I wrote when I was at Sunset Beach last May 17, 2008.  I had just returned from a run, during which I had been doing a lot of thinking about Bob (mentioned above.)  I wrote:  “Live deliberately.  Remember that you should be confident in the fact that life=death.  Your energy here will translate directly to your energy on the other side.”  Perhaps this is part explanation for the early deaths of such passionate and energetic souls… perhaps their energy was just too great for this world… perhaps it had surpassed ours and was begging to be used somewhere else.  I think it is a good explanation at least, and I think that the spirit that Hubie Poteat embodied during his time here was exactly this kind of energy: he was living wildly and fully and madly and happily and wholly in his every minute.  He was LIVING.

I think that is what this poem is all about, and I like to think that Hubie could be reading it to us in the first person.  Read it once: your breath may be taken away.  Read it 3 times: you may sob with revelations.  I give you Rumi’s Sublime Generosity:

I was dead, then alive.
Weeping, then laughing.

The power of love came into me,
and I became fierce like a lion,
then tender like the evening star.

He said, ‘You’re not mad enough.
You don’t belong in this house.’

I went wild and had to be tied up.
He said, ‘Still not wild enough
to stay with us!’

I broke through another layer
into joyfulness.

He said, ‘Its not enough.’
I died.

He said, ‘You are a clever little man,
full of fantasy and doubting.’

I plucked out my feathers and became a fool.
He said, ‘Now you are the candle
for this assembly.’

But I’m no candle. Look!
I’m scattered smoke

He said, ‘You are the Sheikh, the guide.’
But I’m not a teacher. I have no power.

He said, ‘You already have wings.
I cannot give you wings.’

But I wanted his wings.
I felt like some flightless chicken.

Then new events said to me,
‘Don’t move. A sublime generosity is
coming towards you.’

And old love said, ‘Stay with me.’

I said, ‘I will.’

You are the fountain of the sun’s light.
I am a willow shadow on the ground.
You make my raggedness silky.

The soul at dawn is like darkened water
that slowly begins to say Thank you, thank you.

Then at sunset, again, Venus gradually
Changes into the moon and then the whole nightsky.

This comes of smiling back
at your smile.

The chess master says nothing,
other than moving the silent chess piece.

That I am part of the ploys
of this game makes me
amazingly happy.

Like all poetry, this poem could inspire countless interpretations, and so, I will say this:  It is for the generosity of having been given life on earth that we should be grateful, but life does not end here or start here.  There is energy all around us eternally, and the power of love that Rumi and the Eagles talk about can be understood and channeled in countless ways.  The universe begs us to live, but not just to live: to live madly and wildly and with joy, and when the world is finished with our wild energy here, it will always fly free.  But don’t wait.  Fly now.  And when love is present and for as much as it is present, it will remain with you, and you will remain with it.  In the end, that is the essence of what we are:  simply love.  Love is the fountain of the sun casting the shadow of the willow.  Love is the force that begs the sunrise of our souls to offer thanks and the sunsets of our souls to offer endless smiles to those of the heavens who are doing the same.  This little game is life.  Life is death and vice versa, and when I remember that this is really all that matters, I, too, am “amazingly happy,” and so is Hubie.

Tune in later this afternoon to see the Holiday Card inspired by this drawing, Hubie’s Lights, and the last little bit of the Birthday Story!

Hubie's Pussy Willow

[my home today:  Charleston, SC.  Hoping to see my old friend Reed this weekend.  I think I forgot what he looks like.  Also, looking to help sweet Kendall with a move.  In case you don't know how I feel about moving, I will tell you here.  I am a good friend to make such an offer.    Happy Halloween everyone!  My favorite holiday of all time.... (dripping with sarcasm.)]

Advertisement