Thursday, October 16, 2008
and here I am...
The moon was huge last night. I walked all the way to the dog park and up the hill to look at, to feel closer to you.
I also drove to the cemetery on my way home from Oakland. For the first time it didn't feel comforting or good, it felt out of place and unreal. You shouldn't be there and I shouldn't be going there. We should be here at home planning for the opening on Saturday. You should be drinking a latte and bugging me to take you shopping so you will have something to wear.
This morning you should be sleeping late because that is what you do, then you should take a long shower and get the bathroom all steamy and messy. You should leave the blow-dryer out and your clothes all over the floor. I should be yelling at you to turn the music down and hurry up if you are coming to the store with me, we need groceries.
At the store you should be buying things you have never tried before, things I know you won't like and cost too much but I know how happy it makes you to try new things, discover new flavors.
Then we will go to Bev-Mo and buy a case of Pink Champagne because we both think it's pretty. At lunch time we will grab some Thai and talk. I will look at you and think "My God you are beautiful" but what I'll say is, "Stevie I think you are from outer-space" and you will smile because you know what that means. You know that I think you are unique, special, too wonderful to be human. You know that I am so proud of you, so blessed to be your mommy, and I love it that you are smarter than me and care about so many things that other people just don't get.
These are not secrets, I tell you all the time but there are different ways to say it and over Thai food and a tall milky tea "You are from outer-space" is what you say. You always got me, we could speak without all the words in-between. I thought that after you left it would be the same.
The shop opens on Saturday and I want to believe you will be there, standing right next to me saying, "Oh Mom, it is so pretty, I love it" but I won't be able to hear the words instead I will have to search for something else.
I called TT on the way home from Oakmont and told her I couldn't do it anymore, that I didn't want to be here without you. I meant it. I do it though day after day. I have to I guess, that doesn't mean I am happy about it but it is what I must do. The choice doesn't feel like mine.
I got up really early this morning and stood out on the lawn. It was cold and the grass was wet from the sprinklers but the sky was so clear and perfect. The moon was bright and high and close to the three sisters in the sky. Tom and Cindy have put there house up for sale and I wonder if it is because they are afraid to live next door to a crazy lady who stands outside in the dark in nothing but a T-shirt and her nine year old bathrobe, talking to the sky and crying.
I think I might be tempted to move.
I tell you over and over how much I miss you, and love you. I think you must be sick of it but if you are you will have to find a way to tell me. I want to be were you are, I don't want you to be alone and I don't want to be here without you. In this world full of people I feel lost and alone without you.
If I have to stay maybe you can come back. I will find a donor and have a baby. I will be one of those mom's who looks like a gram. When you turn 21 this time I will be...old. I can take you in a backpack to the shop. You will grow up surrounded by cute things and eat candy for breakfast.
I don't know what it is like to be without a body. I don't remember it. If there is a God you are happy now and busy. They have good cold-pressed, free-trade coffee, organic fruit and showers that never get cold. You can sleep as long as you want and travel to places that only you know exist. You never have to be sick, condition your hair, or worry about losing a few pounds.
I see you on a bike riding down a beach where the sand is firm and the waves are all foamy. You hair is long and auburn and wild in the wind. You are laughing and riding fast, barefoot and wearing your old cable knit sweater.
This is what should be, me on the beach watching you, and you so happy, so very happy.