Monday, October 6, 2008

Little Cakes...

When I take a shower in the morning I write you little messages on the steamy glass of the shower walls. I started doing it because it was so hard to be in the shower with your collection of soaps and shampoos. I would cover myself with your cotton candy soap and write you love letters in the steam. I write simple lines about the little things that are happening at home and how much we miss you. I fantasize that the words some how find you. Maybe there is a parallel world were you never got sick, or I did instead and the words appear to you when you take a shower and they comfort you.

This morning I wrote to you about the little cakes I made out of clay, no bigger that a quarter, complete with frosting, berries, tiny nuts and leaves. They remind me of you, something you would hold in your hand that would make you smile. You must have put the idea in my mind while I was sleeping because I woke up with a need to make them.

The shop is opening soon, on the 18th. I can't believe I am doing this, I feel ill prepared. What do I know about retail? Some days I wake up wondering what the hell I am doing and then I think I feel you telling me, " Relax mom, breath, it's happening, and it will be OK"

This little store is something you and I have talked about. I hope I am doing it right. Oh Stevie I wish you were here in your body helping me, shopping with me, talking me through this. I can see you sitting at the little wooden table concentrating on a catalog or telling me how much pink is too much pink.

I am trying so hard to get Aly to be a part of this but she thinks it's stupid, a waste of time and money. She still doesn't like me, I am not sure she ever will. I miss having a daughter who wants to be with me, who loves the things I love, who is my friend and my keeper of secrets. Tell me you are still that person, just without a body of skin and cells.

I am calling the shop Tangerine. It came to me so easily, from the Format song I loved that I stole from you..."alas you are my tangerine, my pussycat my trampoline"

I had a dream about Andrew last night, that he was here for an event and I was telling him all about you and he loved the story and wanted to know everything...then I kissed him. Sorry but he is so very cute. I am not sure if he is so adorable because he is or if it is simply that you found him adorable and I can see what you did. Sorry I kissed him (more that once) it is wicked but it was a dream, how can I possibly be responsible for what I do when I am dreaming?

I promise not to kiss anymore of your rock star boyfriends.

Sweet girl, what am I going to do without your chubby cheeks and cuteness? I am trying to be happy with this new you, this mystery, this in the air, my heart, my mind you. I can love you in any form but it is frustrating for me. I want to touch you, hear your voice, buy you clothes, hear your music come from your room while you are trying to find your shoes and put your hair up in an elastic.

This new you is so ethereal. I am never sure, never.

I have so much to do today, the days are busy as they should be. Your brother is such a comfort to me. He does not replace you but he loves me so completely. He understands this, how I don't know. He came for a reason, maybe it was to save me, to give me a reason to stay and not follow you.

There is not a day that goes by that you are not part of in some way. I am holding you close puddin' so close. Stay with me when you can but not if it keeps you from heaven.

I love you, I love you, I love you,

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