texts after my nap...

i feel myself attaching to the idea that i can still save her-
with small talk.
then i'm reminded of
an
emotional responsibility to myself and the idea of not basing my happiness
on something outside my control

the end.

certificate of proof...

it's funny how in times of need a person attaches to an idea or person-
something to help lead them out of a place of darkness

i am not sure what to attach to really
other than the idea itself...

fragmented...two mothers

Preface:
He came to me in a dream and i asked him what would come of you and he said- Mother is a lost soul on a long, dark highway.. these words comfort me in that i know what i must do now..

Dear Mama-
there have been many lessons i've had to learn about the ties that bind a mother and daughter
many lessons about what sort of woman i wanted to be

living and learning from your mistakes
picking and choosing which parts i would hold on to
and what parts i wanted to release and forget.

i have to remember that this is your first time in this sort of role-
there were few cues or tips for you to grow from
your example taught you what not to be-
my example has taught me both hard and easy lessons about what to be.

i've had to learn many of those lessons from within the space of an absent mother
i've had to learn to forgive
and how to love blindly
and mostly
how to love with doubt.

for as many years as i can recall i've had to live with a love that i loosely extended towards you
never within grasp of each other
we have danced inside a tumultuous rhythm
out of step
and out of touch.

i have made decisions on how not to emulate you
and have made the best parts of you my foundation.

yet for so long i've been on my own-
learning my lessons from a forfeited presence.

Dear Mama
my biggest lesson of all has been learning to forgive you
for succumbing to merely existing rather than living.

i never learned how to accept a wasted chance-
though i have had many of my own

through it all
the one thing i've held on to
was the fact that there are lessons to be learned-
you seemed to stop listening to those lessons
or even showing up to life.

it's been many years that i have worked on forgiving you
and accepting that i can not make you care
i can not care enough for you to make you well

i am resigned, with a broken heart,
to witness your failure of believing
in yourself
or that you deserve more-

your final testament to prove that life is not worth living
is the hardest lesson to learn Mama

but as i let go of you
i grab ahold of my life and the love that i've been blessed with
and i hold it a little closer

because Mama
you taught me that.

faded opus...

i sit amidst the chilled air and wet floor beneath me
dogs moving, excited, and my eyes fall on your image
and words related to you

a sisters response
a picture in the corner of my eye

you..

and i recall hearing the sadness in my lover's voice last night as she recalled how she forgot that it is the anniversary this week of a friend's death

and i think of you

and how these sorts of things should never happen.

too soon
they all say.

you had a smile that was so gentle
and a rhythm i witnessed a few times only
your brief passions exposed though few ever took notice-
the way i did.

i think of you and her and him and the others who have crossed paths with the ceaseless dis- ease

how it must've felt to have release from that i can only imagine
i find comprehension in the letting go
that is all i have left

you were unbreakable i believe
you merely had to lay down to ease the agony.

i grapple with a mother
who has been lying on the floor for years.
more years than i care to remember
and i sit and wait

for the day
she recognizes that she is unbreakable
but must finally lay down...

existing...

at such great heights
there is no sadness

and the words you speak
are engraved in gold

in that sky you now soar in
you are weightless
and at ease

your heart is full and heavy
with peace

your smile engulfs everyone below who now
looks up to you to remember

your laughter now moves like wind
invisible
yet moving across our faces
like the smile you bring

you are everything to everyone
and complete
just as the sun rising and setting
moving across the sky each and every day

you are everywhere at once
and perfect in every way

we will breathe you in
and be reminded of your essence

at such great heights
you are what you've always wanted to be
content
loved
believed in
and remembered..

understanding lucy...part one

7.23.10

it's been about 2 hours now
when death beckoned space in my mind
and subsequently my heart as well-

i am now understanding lucy-
the woman she was
the woman she wanted to be

and the pain that lived close to her.

you wouldn't know these things as they are
these are the sort of things that you find out only afterwards
when everything about the person who has left suddenly becomes an explanation for the way things are now-

she complimented me on the words i've chosen to share with the world-
the things that moved me made some sort of sense to her
and there is more weight in her words.


she wrote step by step
line by line
death by river mississippi
like she knew it -
i stopped reading about the demise she dreamed of
i didn't want to believe that she beckoned death with words dangling like carrots


in understanding lucy
i wish i would have paid more attention to the fire that she didn't see in herself.
her fierce humor and wit
she smiled big
and lived out loud

i've been thinking a lot about what things like this teach us
and what i am learning from faurot

who had a name that surely would have looked good on a best seller's list.


impermanence-

the temporary in everything and everyone
is the best we can hope for

and really the only thing we can hope for...

speaks to me...

heavy roads i've travelled
making my way back to the past
trying to bring my present with me

an introduction of the two once again

i end up tongue tied emotionally -
things stop moving up and making sense

i react but not to the people in front of me
but to the things that i remember in the familiar spaces they occupy

a box of ashes is the first i see of my uncle
since i heard of his strange passing
there were no goodbyes
just a box with a sticker that proved that he existed..

i lifted it to see what a man of his place and predicament weighed

heavy...

i turned to see a man, my father, aging, and a a grandfather who is half of what he used to be
and when i looked for grandmother
she was not there
anymore

i haven't felt her presence there since she moved on or 'checked out' as grampa wrote
in the little yellow address book that held history more accurately then all of our minds collectively-
deaths,
births,
marriages
and social security numbers of the grandkids..

who needs addresses when you've got information on family like that.


travel through some farm roads and you will get to a place of madness

she talked of how they were going to remodel the memory out of the place
new paint, new floors, new appliances

but everyone knows the memory is in the bones of that house
and no new colors and upgraded, hired hands can take that away

the bodies that exist in that home have aged,
changed,
slowed down or sped up

all the accouterments exists that make it a family
unless you dig around and find the faults, levy's and dams that hold it together and pull it a part..

you can try to run only so far before the past and reality of everything slaps you in the face.
somehow it never forgets your face.

it has never forgotten mine

and i'm here now putting myself back together

yet trying to rebuild my emotional strength to face the witnessing of the realtor
in his yard-
who shares my name
and the 133 lb man
who once towered over life
and all of us
who now whispered to me
he's ready....

i know it's just the way it goes
all these things
and i invite this heaviness in when i return

and that camera taking pictures
forces me to remember what i'm inclined to forget.

none of us are above going through these parts of life
and i alone am not facing these changes that are coming and those that have occurred

i just question whatever happened to the sun that used to shine down on all our smiling faces
when we were all together

where are those pictures
inside my head
or on paper?

i guess the beauty in this is that i get to choose what i carry on with me

some of the places people carried with them didn't get the picture perfect ending that the photos make it appear that they had

i've lost those photos anyway-
and the only ones i've got now
are in my head

and soon
even that is unsafe to time
as my memory filters out things forgettable and unforgettable

these are the things and spaces that we must occupy
if we choose to remain signed up for this life
i remind myself that ultimately the hard parts are worth all the good parts culminated
that i can't seem to get a hold of right now

i'm fairly sure of it
even though i'm wavering a bit...