Stevie,

I had a dream that you were in the hospital and I was visiting you. I have never visited you in the hospital, when you went in, I went in and I never left without you.

In the dream I didn't like that I had to "visit" you. In the dreams that I have where you are still sick it is always the same, I feel like I have been kept from you somehow.

In this dream it's as if we were living the "what if" and instead of dying you were trying to get better. It was terrible. I hated seeing you like that but in the dream I was so hopeful you would be getting better.

I woke up remembering how hard it was for you, the falling apart and not being able to do anything about it.

You hated depending on me. You were always stronger than me, I cried on you shoulder, I always asked your advice. When it all came down to you depending on me for the tiniest thing it must have been horrible. I did my best but I can find a million ways I could have done it better.

It was the worst way to leave this life. I am so sorry. It still isn't fair and it still kills me a little bit more every time I think about it.

Promise me that in our next life we can be sisters. We will be born to wonderful parents who want more than anything to have children and they make our lives magical. I know I told you I wanted you to be my mother in our next life but I don't think I could bear to lose you again.

As sisters we will be best friends, have good fights, share secrets, go to college parties together, be in each others weddings, and hold each others hands when the babies arrive. We will live close to each other in big houses by the water and borrow things like sugar, and eggs. Our husbands will love us to pieces but we will love each other more.

When we are eighty we will celebrate our birthdays by skydiving.

We will jump out of the plane holding hands, our last moments will be of thrilling adventure, we will continue holding hands and never pull our chutes open. We will leave this world like that, blessed, happy, long wonderful lives, no regrets. We will never hit the ground.

The falling will simply turn into flying.

Aly had a dream about you too. She said that we were standing in the kitchen talking when you walked in. She said you were real, just standing there as if nothing ever happened. She said, "Oh my god Stevie what are you doing here?" You shrugged your shoulders like you always do and we rushed to hug you. She said that I was kissing and hugging you and I was so happy to see you. She was asking you questions but when she woke up she couldn't remember all the answers. She does remember asking if you were OK and you anwered that you were. You said you were everywhere and nowhere. You didn't seem terribly happy or sad. The thing that worried her was that you did not seem how she would have imagined.

She was worried because you were younger in the dream, still blonde and a little chubby. She could tell that you were still sick a little. She asked you why you were not different, the way you wished to be. She can not remember the answer.

She remembers while she was hugging you she was wondering how it could be true, then she thought "Oh no this is just a dream isn't it" then you were gone.

I wonder if it is really you when we dream about you. Aly thinks it is just memories of you. Maybe it is both, maybe you are coming to us using our memories. You are accessing our data banks using the "Stevie files" to let us know it is you.

I think the messages from you are in there.

My message was that what happened was what needed to happen anything else would have meant more suffering.

Aly can only know what hers was but I think you were letting her know that you are simply still you.

The book will be here soon. I used the photo of you from your last birthday with us. It was the one with you sitting next to Aly. You were listening to her talk. I think she was stoned, she kept making you laugh. The murial behind you is of a bridge in Thailand, you always wanted to vacation there.

That night was so much fun, the big vegan cake, the great Thai food, the private dining room. You were so pretty. I hated that gold sweater but I still have it. Once in a while I go into your closet just to touch it.

It was a good birthday.

I bought you the espresso machine.

Dad and Aly use it all the time.

Your cherry tree is bursting with the prettiest deep pink cherries right now. You would be out there gobbling them up if you could.

I know you have important work to do where you are but I am here and I miss you so much. If you can come and sit with me and whisper in my ear that you are OK. Tell me all about where you live and how beautiful it is.

I am so honored to be your mother, that doesn't stop because you have left your body, I know in my heart where ever you are you are doing something big, so big. It is who you have always been this quiet mountain climber.

I love you sweet pea,

Mama

Dreaming

I had another dream about Stevie. I wish there was a way to wake up and bottle them before they slip away...

In this dream I was watching what looked like an old 8mm film. It was grainy and a little shaky and there was no sound. Stevie was with another girl about her age, size and coloring. they were outdoors and I could see lawn chairs and swim suits. It was a sunny day. Stevie was so happy and you could tell that these two girls were best friends. In the dream Stevie was blond, thin, and seemed a little younger.

I had a feeling that she had been away on a trip abroad. It had been such a long time since I had seen her but I knew she was coming home. I was so upset that she did not have way to call us during her time away. I kept watching the film and wondering how she learned to communicate with the people she was with. They spoke a different language and Stevie had her tiny voice. I knew though that she must have found a way because she looked so happy.

My dream ended with me trying to make my way through the airport at night. It was dark and empty and I was a little lost. I was hoping she would remember me, and that she would want to come home after having such a wonderful time.

I got on the escalator and woke up.

Dreams, books, pastlives...

I had a dream about Stevie last night and even though I told myself to remember it over and over it is fading away now.

We were in a hospital, she was sleeping without her bi-pap, it made me afraid. There was a nurse there who looked like Julie Andrews and had hair like the flower Hallmark uses on their envelopes.
I was telling her about Stevie but she acted like she knew everything I had to say before I could say it. In the dream Stevie was talking to me. I told the nurse that Stevie did not have a voice but I could hear her.

I can't remember what Stevie said...

I wanted to take her home.

Pink Sky has been creeping along. Iva will make the final edits for the cover then off to the publisher this time it is really going to the publisher. This process has been an exercise in patients that I did not know I had.

I hope that where ever Stevie is she is OK with how the book turned out.

I am staying busy making art and avoiding housework.

I had a past-life regression two weeks ago that was interesting. I went to a certified therapist in Gilroy that does a lot of past life work. Her office is in a renovated barn on a beautiful farm. It was very peaceful, she was a very gentle woman who it was easy to connect with.

She had a soft couch and big knit blankets to cuddle up in and get warm. We spoke for a bit before she attached a tiny microphone to my shirt to record the session.

She starts of helping you relax all the parts of your body one at a time. When you are nice and relaxed she takes you on a guided visualization, very pretty, so nice. Then before you know it you are looking down at your feet. My feet were dark brown with stubby toes.

I was on a beach with my brothers we were suppose to be working, gathering palm fronds and wood to stack under a big tree. Instead of working we were goofing off, playing and avoiding any responsibility.

Then I was in my village, My house was one of many all built very close to each other. The houses sat on top of a wooden platform. The platforms were strong and worn soft but the houses were not well made . We didn't "Live" in our houses they were just a place to store things and sleep in when it rained. On most nights we slept out on the platforms.

There was a central fire where all the cooking was done, the families in this group cooked and ate together. I could see people gathered around talking while children ran wild all over, there were so many children.

I got along best with my oldest brother and I was most close to my mother. My father had many children with different women but my mother had me, my four brothers and my sister. I remembered with great pain and sadness that my sister had died as a young girl. We looked a lot alike long black hair, slanting eyes, a small but wide nose. Our skin was dark and we wore little clothing and we had bare feet.

I don't remember how my sister died but I do remember the day they wrapped and burned her body.

In this life my sister is Aly.

My mother was a large woman, not obese but chubby and soft. She had a smiling face and everyone liked her. She was very knowledgeable and people often came to us to help with illness, childbirth and advice. I was my mothers shadow. I loved my mother so much.

In this life my mother is Stevie.

I remember a time when my father left the village. He went away with some men and never came back. I was not saddened, and my mother did not seem affected by his leaving. We were one big family in this village we all worked together and took care of each other.

I know that I never had a mate or children. I chose instead to stay with my mother and to help the people of the village. It could be a noisy and busy place but there was always a sense of calm and caring. There was an order and a time for everything and it moved very slowly and naturally.

I remembered the day my mother died. We slept together and I woke to find her gone. She was quite old and she looked so peaceful, I knew it was her time.

My sisters death devastated me, I was much younger and did not understand the cycle of life and death, and I missed her so much. My mothers death was natural, I missed her but I understood.

I was regressed to the last day of my life. I was much older but not an old woman by today's standards. The day I died was an ordinary day but I felt at peace, something was different but it was inside me.

Later I lay sleeping inside my little house dreaming. In my dream I could not breath and my chest began to burn. I was finally able to take a nice deep breath of cool air and woke up. I stood up and looked down to see my body still laying asleep. I walked away very quietly not wanting to wake anyone.

I walked a long time down the beach away from my people. After a bit the beach and sky changed color, bright and warm but comforting. The colors were unusual and I knew I had found a different place. I did not have a name for it but I knew I was some where else.

I was not alone, I could feel others there I just could not see them.

The therapist took me other places that were not past lives but conversations with my guides.

I will save that for another day.

Tale of the pink pony

I was talking to Stevie several days ago, yammering away in the car. I gave her a list of all the things that remind me of her and that I will always consider a sign or a message from her. The list was not very long but very important. They were specific objects or songs. Everything reminds me of her every day, all day but this list is very specific.

The next day I was listening to a book on tape in my studio while I was working and everyone of those of those things showed up in the book. I kept smiling all the way through. Most people would call that a sign and be done with it but I am cynical and greedy and told her "I am going to give you one object, a random object, like you use to do at Christmas time, find it Stevie, put it in my path, then I will know that you are still real, still here, just like Santa stayed real as long as I (he) could find that obscure gift you requested."

What came to mind was a pink pony so that is what I told her I needed.

A couple days went by, no pony.

Yesterday (mothers day) We went to Berkeley, to a neighborhood both Stevie and I love. There is a huge and very popular Pete's coffee, a book store, old diner, good shopping and live music. For mothers day I wanted to be there, have a Tamal Verdura, visit Castle in the air, take Noah to The Ark toy store, have a cupcake and later go to Fondue Fred's on Telegraph.

It felt good to being doing all of these things but my heart was missing my girl, wishing she was there doing all of this too.

We went into the toy store, Noah was very happy he wanted everything but settled for a tube that stretches and makes farting noises. The Ark carries toys you can't find in other places, fantasy toys, wooden trucks, Waldorf dolls, old fashioned tin robots etc...

I was walking around in the baby area because I like the toys there best when I noticed on a shelf right in front of me sat a little pony. It was not a pink pony, she was white with a pink a purple mane. She did have a tiny pink heart. I knew she did not belong to the store because it was a "My little Pony" and this store does not carry mainstream products. I know this was a "My little Pony" because Stevie loved them and once owned a pink one with a mane you could brush.

A child must have left it behind, but it was on a shelf a small child could not reach. My heart was beating fast. I tried to explain it to Steve and Aly but they couldn't understand. This is the kind of thinking that they both don't relate too.

I went up to pay for our purchases after a little more shopping, I kept the pony in my sweaty hand. I was thinking to Stevie "Oh Stevie I want to believe you did this but it is a toy in a toy store and it isn't pink, I don't mean to be an ass but I need one more little thing to let me know".

It was finally my turn to pay (the line was long, busy day) and I asked the clerk if this little pony was theirs and he said, "No way" I put it into my purse, grabbed my wallet, pulled out my debit card, dropped my debit card, went to pick it back up off the counter and there on the counter was a box of bandages... Pink unicorn bandages.

Stevie's unicorn stage was playing in my mind, the pony with the pink heart in my purse, the pink unicorns...I had to walk outside to cry. I knew she was there. Steve said, "Hey isn't it weird the pony thing happened on mothers day?"

We went to Temescal and I sat on a bench facing the water, a bench Stevie and I sat on a dozen times. I missed her but I knew she was not too far away.

We went to Fondue Fred's and I placed the little pony in the middle of the table, so Stevie would know we were thinking of her. At some point during dinner everyone had picked it up and held if for a second, I am not sure they noticed.

Thank you sweet girl...you made my day, I love you so much, so very much...

Mama

Sense and sensibility

If someone took away your five senses what would you have left. How would you see, hear, touch, smell, taste?

I thought about this yesterday as I was walking to the park and talking to Stevie. I said, "Stevie it's Mom, can you hear me?" then I thought of course she can't hear me she doesn't have ears. She can't see me walking in the park, she can't touch me...Instead of crying I decided to challenge myself and try to figure out what she can do now, now that she does not have these physical senses.

If I could not see anymore I could remember what I saw. I could replace that with hearing. If I could no longer hear, I could listen with my hands to vibrations, if I could not touch something I could smell it...

I wasn't getting anywhere so I sat down on a bench at the bend in the walkway halfway to the otherside of the park. This is where Mathews Russian grandparents come everday to walk, read and sometimes sleep. It felt like I was invading thier space even though they were not there.

I closed my eyes, relaxed and slowly shut myself down. If I had no physical senses what would I have...There would no longer be physical pain or joy, there would no longer be the sound of birds, the smell of fried onions coming from someones open window, the taste of ice cream, the soft touch of a baby, the sky would no longer be blue.

What I would have is a being and a knowing that all these things exist, someplace else. I would have memory and I could sense energy.

You know when you have a baby and you know a moment before he starts to cry that he needs you or the phone rings and you know who it is or being in a group of people and sensing the combined energy. Funerals are sad even if you do not know the person, and the birth of a baby always makes you sigh even if it is not your baby.

So I sat there in the park making myself energy, sending Stevie all my love, sending her memories, and wrapping us together in a different sense, one that I do not understand fully because I am human right now.

My prayer is that when we leave these bodies that we discover that the five senses we experienced, that we depended on where like learning to walk or ride a bike, just the begining of something exciting. We had no idea as small children how much bigger the world was going to get or what we were going to experience.

I also pray that I am not too small for these new senses my girl has discovered and that she can still find me here in the park sitting on a bench where I can feel the energy of a very old and beautiful Russian people.