Friday, July 18, 2008
I had a dream about Stevie last night...you have no idea how painfully beautiful that is to me.
In the dream we were riding in a car, I was driving, she was wearing a blue striped shirt and her hair was blond, cut into a bob, she was young about fourteen(?) She was so happy and smiling. I had no idea were we were going I just knew i had to keep driving to keep her there.
I kept asking her, "are you real, are you really real?" and she kept saying "yes mom I am real" I held her hands and looked into her eyes, we were laughing and it was wonderful. I started asking her questions and she told me not to. She just wanted us to be this way, and I did too but I needed more. I finally did ask a question, not sure what it was, turned to look at her and she was gone.
The dream is fading as dreams do and there is some part of me that knows that there was more that I can not remember.
I am so grateful for those moments of looking at her and knowing she was right there again.
There is a song Stevie loves "La La Lie" that Noah sang at a performance. In the song he sings, "I'm coming back to my girl by July" It has been stuck in my head and I can't get it out. I was so sure she was telling me that she would see me in July. I had dreams about the number 7-12 so I waited and nothing.
Last night the moon was so full I stood out on my front lawn and told her I loved her. I knew it would still be full on the 19Th (cemetery day for me) and I was happy about that. I don't know why the energy that a full moon brings makes me believe in things I thought I threw away but it fills me with hope and sometimes a little forgiveness
I know I write it over and over but I love that kid so much, we all love our kids and I love Aly and Noah but Stevie was not just my daughter she was my... I don't have words to explain it she was my anchor, my moral compass, my heart, my reason.
When people we love die we make them bigger because the space they leave in us is so big we have to fill it with great big things.
I know I do that with memories of her, I brighten them up, embellish them and sometimes I am sure I invent them without even realizing it. But who she was, and is to me is not something I need to make bigger, she is all of me.
I have never loved anyone like this nor will I ever again. Maybe it's creepy because it is something a woman would say about a man but there is no man on earth that I could feel this for, it is beyond that kind of love.
The love we have for our children is so primal. When we give birth to them we give birth to ourselves. They are inside us, outside of us and all around us. We live for them and through them. It is like a piece of us get's to live another posibility and we get to watch this happen.
I believe that every once in a while we give birth to someone who is not just our child but someone meant just for us that comes in the form of a child.
I didn't just take care of her, she took care of me. She was my teacher, always my teacher.
My regrets are always not listening enough to her. She had so many things to say and said them with a few important words. If you missed it, you missed so much.
I remember having dinner in Crocket with Sarah and the boys. Stevie sat next to Sarah. On this night Stevie opened up to her about cooking and Sarah said to me after dinner, "I think that is the first time I had a real conversation with Stevie" She was blown away by Stevie and the things she said.
The funny thing is that every time someone took the time to really listen to her they were amazed. Her teachers adored her and the praise became almost expected, Stevie loved it, she loved the validation. She worked hard, never doing anything fast, easy or sloppy.
When she was in seventh grade they had to do a report on a State. Stevie did Hawaii, every single island. Her Report was in a binder with photographs and drawings. When it was her turn to present she wore a flower lei and brought in pineapple and macadamia's for everyone to eat while they listened. She rocked.
When she was in fourth grade she wrote a play for the class to act out. In fifth grade she wrote a book that she read to the school.
She was shy believe it or not but she loved to perform, it was in her genes, she couldn't help it.
Stevie adored irony, innuendo, obscure puns, and witty observation. She often sailed over heads but it didn't bother her nor did she judge anyone.
She was secure in her intellect but she loved it when people got her, when someone noticed how bright she could shine. She got this wicked little smile on her face that is a tattoo on my heart, I love that smile.
Steve is back from Budapest, I wonder if Stevie travels with him? I imagine she leads him to the most beautiful places that he would otherwise miss.
So many people have copies of Pink Sky now and it makes me sad that the book makes them cry but the feedback has been wonderful. It belongs to Stevie.
If she were here she would have written a much better book, it would have been profound and technically perfect but she had to write it through me so it is less than perfect but completely wonderful.
Thank you for the book Stevie. Thank you for the visit. This love never stops. I was so afraid it would that time would erase you but nothing can, you are real, you are permanent, you are still here.
I love you lots, I love you snots