Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Listening...









I had to go to Pleasant Hill today to pick up some fixtures for Tangerine, I plugged in the Ipod, put the ear thingy in my cell and headed down the driveway. When I got to the corner I turned up the volume and let the Ipod shuffle. The song that came up was Death Cabs "I'll Follow you into the dark"

And the soles of your shoes are all worn down The time for sleep is now It's nothing to cry about Cause we'll hold each other soon The blackest of rooms If Heaven and Hell decide That they both are satisfied Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs If there's no one beside you When your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark Then I'll follow you into the dark


A friend of ours sang this song for Stevie at her funeral. It was one of her favorites, she loved Ben, he rocked her world.

I started to cry even though I had gone through the trouble of putting make up on, not something I usually do (put on make up, not cry). I must have been a sight driving down the road with mascara and tears running down my cheeks, my nose red, and singing at the top of my lungs fully animated.

When the song was over I turned the volume all the way down and started talking to Stevie.

I said,

"Hey Stevie I need to talk to you.
I want to believe that song came on because you wanted me to hear it. I am trying so hard to listen and at times like this I think I can hear you. I want to believe it is you and not the beginning of some degenerative mental illness. Isn't it strange that the very part of me that can hear you is the part of me I trust the least."

"Missing you is so hard, it feels like torture but it would be worse if I couldn't miss you. The only thing that can fix my broken parts is having you here next to me in this car telling me to turn the music back up and stop talking."

"If God were to tell me I could have you back but I would never get to see you because you would be too busy going to college, making friends and living a life that belonged only to you then I would agree."

I thought I heard her say "That is what I am doing mom, it is what I am doing" It felt urgent and I said, "The difference is that I don't really know that's what's happening, I feel like I hear you but I am not sure, I need to be sure, you have to make me sure. You and God have to find a way to tell me that I can not explain away."

Then I told her that I had so much in my heart I wanted her to know. I told her I was sorry I was never patient, that I yelled too much, that I was flaky and was late picking her up from school when I knew it made her afraid.

I told her that I was sorry that I didn't listen to her enough, didn't play more and that I didn't try hard enough to save her.

I thanked her for choosing me, for loving me, for letting me be her mother and for being my daughter. I told her I would do it over and over just to know her, I can't imagine a life of not knowing her.

I thanked her for teaching me about love and compassion as I cried and cried.

When I got to my destination I had to pull myself together, I had to dry my eyes and look as normal as was possible. I was finished with my errand and back in the car pretty quickly, I looked at the clock and it was 11:11. I put the ear bud in and left the parking lot. When I got onto the freeway I turned up the volume. The Ipod never got shut down so it just began playing.

It was Iz's version of somewhere over the rainbow, another song from the funeral, and one of the most heartbreaking and beautiful songs that was ever overplayed. I love Iz's soft and soothing Hawaiian voice and the sound of his little ukulele.

I looked up to the sky to tell Stevie I loved her and there was big heart made of clouds right over me. I watched it as it followed me all the way home.

When I got home I told Steve about it and he told me that he woke up thinking about her and wrote about her this morning. He said it feels like a day that she is so close, like she is trying to tell us she misses us.

I felt the same way, and it was a whole day of talking to her.

Just a little while ago Steve called me and said "You have to come outside" I almost fell over, the sky was so pink and I don't mean sunset pink, there were big pink clouds all around, it was everywhere. I just kept saying "I am right here Stevie, I am right here with you." The sky was beginning to change and I didn't want to forget it so I ran in the house and grabbed the camera. The photo's do not do that magnificent sky justice.

When I went back into the house it began to rain, only for a few minutes, big fat drops. I stood out under it and let it fall on me and thanked her for working so hard.

2 comments:

Selena said...

I saw the pink sky too. I was reading your book, looked up and couldn't believe it. Thank you, thank you, thank you for sending it to me.

Dan and Angela Keane said...

Gina, Thank you so much for sending me a copy of The Pink Sky, and how very appropriate that today, I find time to thank you and your most recent post is about a pink sky and your talk with Stevie! WOW, I just love how she is everywhere!
Your book is so powerful and amazing, I just smiled and cried, and smiled some more!
May you have many more pink sky days and good talks with Stevie!