Kisses Fix Everything, Don’t They?
You held up your finger to me for a kiss, having gotten it caught in the zipper of your pajamas. I obliged and asked you, as always, “all better?”. You nodded yes and turned over, with your thumb in your mouth and your special Red B in hand. Eyes closed, you drifted off to sleep, tucked into the warmth and safety of my arms.
I could not sleep. I lie awake thinking of how I wish that I could always fix your worries with a simple kiss.
You’re a strange mix of baby and little girl, not really either one… Continue reading
22
It is January and the sky is a vibrant blue today. Not something we often see here in Oregon in the dead of winter. There is a cold wind blowing the clouds and rain away, rain that would remind me of that day 22 years ago when I said goodbye.
I don’t want to always feel sad on this day, and yet I do. I feel sad that as I watch my girl play he’s not there to chase her around the house or terrify her with stories of bugs and wild animals, as he used to do with my… Continue reading
One Year Later
I moved my last post back to the draft folder. I was hesitant to publish it at all, even privately, and bare myself so completely as to the struggle of emotions.
Those of you who read and as usual, supported me, thank you. Your words mean so much and I feel each one of them as a warm embrace.
The sheer act of writing has brought about some form of catharsis. The emotions have shifted to something different, less intense and not quite as crushing.
Life and the act of living it never ceases to ebb and flow. The waters… Continue reading
4th Annual Bloggy Holiday Card Exchange
Wishing you all a wondrous holiday season.
May 2012 be a happy healthy year.
So grateful for having all of you in my life.
Head here to see all the other wonderful holiday cards. Thanks to Meghan for doing this again this year. So fun!
When Words Are Too Much Work
Some days it’s a struggle to even reply to an email, much less start one. Some days I look at the text message on my phone and wonder how long I can ignore it.
It’s not that I don’t want to talk. It’s that using my words is too hard some days. If you’ve never experienced it, you’re unlikely to understand it.
It’s not a cataclysmic event propelling me into a place of quiet. It can be old memories flooding back, creeping into corners I thought had been cleared out.
Small things, little things. Mundane life, death, grief, panic,… Continue reading
Soaring
I’m not a good flier. I do not think it’s anywhere near natural for human beings to be 38,000 feet in the air, hurtling through the clouds at 500 miles an hour. You can spout all the statistics at me you like about flying being the safest way to travel. They bring me no comfort. At least in my car, if my engine stops working I am ON the ground, not about to pierce it like a fucking dart.
That said, I have flown many times in the past. However, the longer I go between flights, the more anxiety I… Continue reading
Marilou
When I saw it sitting on the shelf, my hand reached out for it automatically, almost as if that appendage had a mind of its own.
It reminded me of her, that bar of Ivory soap. The scent that would linger on pillows and bedsheets and my shoulder after a hug. The scent that enveloped her skin, bare, as she leaned over a basin while I rinsed her hair, her gnarled hands reaching up every so often to check my progress. “Nope, I still feel some, right here”.
She lived with us, practically, for so much of my childhood. I… Continue reading
So that I don’t forget…
Octopus is applepus.
Binoculars is knockers.
White fluffy dandelions are blowey blows.
Mud is muuuuuud (said in a Southern drawl worthy of your heritage).
Dancing is called singing.
Singing is done in a very soft voice, very monotone.
Your favorite blanket, Red B, is a she. You cuddle and hug her while murmuring “I love you so much, Red B”.
The toy stethoscope you got for Christmas is called your “Doctor peoples”.
You like to take my temperature with your toy “mometer”.
Nothing elicits more squeals than the slide.
You like to take paper and safety scissors and play “sciss”.… Continue reading
Three
Today, my darling girl, you turned three.
There was food, and presents, and candles that you blew out not once, not twice, not three times, but at least four times. We sang happy birthday as you beamed with excitement. Your best friend Ella was here to celebrate with you. You bounced together, squirted each other with water pistols, played with all your toys, new and old.
We celebrated you today. Not just because you’re three. But because you are so special.
Today you are such a remarkably different girl than two. Three can unwrap her own presents. Three can climb… Continue reading
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