Gardening

The sky was so big today. It stretched out and changed so fast. I watched the orange glow flip sides. In the morning, it rose up in the East, beaming up its pink on the clouds lifting themselves up to share the day with the blue. At dusk, the glow spread itself out like thin water. The whispy clouds became gentle waves tickling the shadowy horizon as it drowsed off to sleep. The same thing happened yesterday. On these two days I found myself doing things that pleased me. I was for me today and yesterday. It felt nice doing simple things, it felt right, I saw what I wanted too.
Yesterday I worked in the garden, it was what I wanted to do, and since I wanted to be happy, I let myself pretend a bit. I pretended that you were nearby, Frost. As I sat in the dappled shade and pulled the overgrown lemon balm away from the rose arbor, I pretended that you lay on a blanket spread under a perfect tree with perfect full shade, just right for a baby. I heard you coo and I spoke to you in the way of all mothers. I said, "do you hear the birds, sweety?" "do you like the song they are singing?" "because they are singing it for you." Then I imagined that I heard you whimper and I said, "it's okay honey, mama's here." Then I looked in the dirt that I had uncovered and I realized that I was seeing it through a swelling of tears and my pretending came to an end. I said, "mama's here, but where are you? where are you Frost?" I looked at the dirt again and remembered the winter when it was buried deep under the snow and ice, I remembered when it was frozen and I went out to the same spot and sobbed for you. I was pulling and digging at that earth that had been frozen, it was now thawed, but I still found myself sobbing for you there. I called your name again and again, I didn't care that I had become dirty and scraped and burnt with the sun. I didn't care that my tears had become a muddy paste or that my nose had become so stuffed that breathing through it was impossible, my mouth was dry with gasping for you. I didn't care about the insects and spiders and slugs meandering about. I didn't care about these things at all, until out of all of the darkness of the dirt a tiny white spider crawled onto my leg and sat. He reminded me of bones. His white was a translucent white, the kind that doesn't see sunlight. The spider's world was like that of life in a cave. Underground, a tomb. When he perched himself upon my leg, he didn't scatter the way
I would expect one exposed to the unknown would. He sat there very comfortably and made me feel that he was familiar with my world. He gave me a feeling of rebirth, ressurection. I found peace with that little spider and gently sent him on his way back to the soil which he had crawled from. We all have to visit new worlds from time to time. I did what I wanted today and yesterday and so, I think, did you.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

No Nest

A year ago we found out that you were ours and we were yours. What I have now is not what I had then, Frost.
I watched a bird go crazy inside of the store. I could relate. He started out normal, almost happy. He even seemed excited to find so much free food. He flew from perch to perch, chirping and singing, watching and eating. Waiting for the adventure of his new world. Then the bird lost his night time. There is no darkness in a 24 hour store. Without the sunset to tell him to go to sleep, the bird never rested. He began flying in circles, faster and faster, barely resting at his usual stops. His whistles became stressed, his feathers ruffled. He had lost his sky. He had lost his home.
We opened a side door for him in hopes that he would make his way to freedom, he did not. We left a trail of his favorite snack to the open door, he did not follow it. he flew and flew distracting shoppers and workers. His panic tempted our eyes. I tried to meet his gaze and somehow send him clues to finding his happiness again. I don't thik it worked. People tried to catch him, people spoke of shooting him down, all hoped to be heroic. Save him from himself, no. The next day he was gone. I don't know what happened to him. I hope that he found the door to his sky, but I don't know. Enclosure leads to insanity if one does not have a home to escape to. You are my home. You take away the crazy thoughts, you and your sister protect me. I will see you again. Someday I will follow your trail, but for now I'm going to fly around a bit more. Keep leaving your clues, okay Frost?
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

We are Mothers

I keep changing the things I like about myself. Lately, I've been happy with the way my hair looks, it curls, I like that. I have more of these curls when I don't brush my hair, too bad I always brush it before I go anywhere. That means my friends don't get the full effect of the curl. I'm mad at my eyes because they don't impress me the way that they used to. They've gone to a new place with all of the crying I've done and I don't know if they can come back. When I think I can see some of the old spirit come back, a big heavy sinks over me and off they go again. The age has withered in on me in places. I can see it, before I thought it would never come. Time stomped on me this year.
I like that I'm thinking more again, the way I did in highschool when I first dabbled with the words I love to rearrange. I left this treasure alone for a while. I don't know why but I busied myself with other things. I have to start bringing things out of their boxes and admiring them more. Using them to decorate my soul. Remembering that I have them.
I wish that I had taken more pictures of myself when I was younger, I need to see my youth now and I'm afraid I don't have anything to look at. I've made sure that Hadley will have pictures. I guess that I should feel blessed that I was given the chance to age. You were not given this chance, Frost. The only pictures we have are of your very beginning and your very ending.
I am more patient now, the little nit-picky things don't bother me. Sentimental things do, however, kidnapp me. These few things I have to hold on to, take me away when I see, hear or feel them. My Mom told me that my Grandma has been looking at old pictures with her nurse a lot lately. It's funny because she used to gripe when I always got the pictures out and asked her questions about the people and the years and the places. Now that her memories are leaving her she wants constant reminders of what she had and does not want to forget. I wanted images of where I came from and I wanted to hear the story from her. I wish that I had been told more of the stories of our family, then I could tell these to her now. When she turned 80, when her mind was still strong, I wrote her a birthday poem. In it, I wrote of the beautiful memories that she gave to me, those that helped build my childhood. She cried, she had never cried much before that I remembered. Now she cries everytime we see her, she doesn't want to leave us. She cried so much when you died Frost. She told me that she had prayed for you every night while you were in my belly, and then she said "I guess it didn't work". She remembered you every night, even though she would forget how to say our names or write a W, she remembered you even though she had never met you. I think it is because she knew where you came from and she thought that you would be our future. I like that I am a Mother and I feel that the gift was given to me from her through my Mother, we are good Mothers. I wish that I could bring you back for our entire family. I wish that your chapter in our family history did not have to be the saddest. I want a happy ending, I want you to come back to me. Can't you please do this? Maybe just for Mother's Day.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

The Camera Man and His Eyes

I've always enjoyed watching it happen, watching people fall in love. In the old movies, the silents did it the best. I didn't need to hear the words that told of true love's arrival. The expression in the eyes were all I needed to know that it had happened. The language of the body is what spoke to me. One look could last forever.
I also like watching it happen to my friends. When love comes to the people I love, I see them shimmer. It catches my eye and I can feel when it happens. It makes me warm and happy, I move along with it and thrive in its shadow.
Your sister's eyes are very beautiful, I imagine that had I seen your eyes open Frost, we would have seen the same beauty. One day I know that I will see her eyes sing out "I love him, I love him!" When this happens her eyes will become impossible not to drown in. Right now her eyes carry another kind of beauty, that of empathy. She sees so much pain through them, I think that they must be overflowing with the longing to make everything better. She needs happiness and so her eyes search it out. They work together to find happy things where sorrow has lived. When her eyes find a bit of happiness those around her see the love in her eyes and they welcome it into their hearts. We are lucky enough to be those people. In her search for this happiness, I have seen your sister begin to fall in love with the world.
I have fallen in love myself, many times. With your father, your sister and you. I've fallen in love with a whisper and a look. With a tune and a smile. I have fallen in love with the grass at my back and the end of the day. With a book and the moon. With the past and a painting. I will fall in love again and I will watch for love's reminders.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

The Firmament

This weekend there were two birthdays. One in heaven and one here. What did you and Grandpa do for his birthday? We sent four balloons up; a yellow one, a blue one, a purple one, and a pink one. Did you get them? They went high and fast with the wind. They took off in the wrong direction for us to watch for very long. The birthday here was your sister's. Hadley turned eight. She has started looking for signs from you everywhere. Today she saw something in the clouds that she believed was a warning from you. She said that she saw a man emerge from the clouds and point a bow and arrow at us. I asked her which cloud she saw this in and she looked and answered that it had gone. I said what was it a warning of and she said that it meant that we should never go to the fortune teller. I don't know where this thought came from. We had not spoken of this before. I believe that she might fear the future a bit, because of the things that come up bad. She wants to keep her ignorant bliss for as long as possible. The soothsayer can keep her doomsday rabble to herself because I don't want to know either. We decided that we would heed the warning you sent us from the sky today.

The sky has become my connection to you also. I have been watching it, in all of its forms. Night, for stars and the moon. For whispy clouds and wind. Day for billowy sky-paintings and sun rays. For possible rainbows and sweeping birds. Stormy, bright, clear, blue, black, golden, setting, waking, split by electricity. All the ways the sky can go. The beautiful Firmament. To me it has become the veil that covers your new home. And by watching constantly I feel as though I might be able to peek through the layers and catch a glimpse of what I have lost. I've been taking pictures of these sky-paintings, trying to catch a calm through its gauziness. Morning and evening are a good time to do this. Tonight I caught a face in the clouds right next to a belly full of life. Hadley saw hearts marching over and over in a optical parade. Which one do you sit upon, Frost? Who do you play with? With the other babies? Today was our special Mother's Day and you darlings gave us precious gifts, the day was perfect here. The sky opened up for us like a giant greeting card, with nothing but words of purest love written in an ancient script that can never be read, only known.

Night, night Frost

Mama loves you.