Seven

Stevie,

It's April 18th.  I have been a wreck all week, my cells are remembering.  Today has been hard really hard and I can't explain it.  I can't breath.  I miss you so much.  I hate this.  I am allowed to feel sorry for myself once in a while, have a pity party, fall apart but it feels like weakness like I am stuck and I am not stuck.  I am sad and it has been too long, seven years, and today I realize, really understand it will be the rest of my life.  Is this what it is like to be in prison?  At least in prison you know the people you love are out there, you can call them, get visits, send them a letter.

This is my letter, will it make it's way to you on the other side?  Are you sitting next to me while I write this wondering why I am such a mushy pile of tears, not strong at all?  I am sorry.  I need to know you are somewhere, I need to talk to you. I see your face in pictures, watch you dance and laugh, hear your voice on video, it isn't enough.  I want to smell your hair, kiss your cheeks, touch your hand.  I want to go into your room, sit on your bed and talk about your day.  I want to take you shopping, watch your look at everything, find just the right thing, something I would have never chosen in a million years.

There are happy days sweetie, there really are, we have  holidays, and birthdays, and silly times.  We are alive and living and doing and surviving but it isn't the same without you, there is always someone missing.  It is hard to take a family photo, it's hard to explain when people ask how many kids I have.  I always include you but have to explain, and I have to deal with the pity and awkward moment,  I  smile and say "It's  ok" when it isn't but I am expected to pretend.

It would be nice if I could say, "I have five kids.  Two of my daughters died, one at 19 and one when she was born early.  My other three kids are alive, healthy and happy and that brings me great joy but everyday I live with loss and it sucks, it hurts and on some days it's unbearable.  I envy you, that you don't have to know this and I wouldn't wish it on you and I try to find beauty and gratitude and I count my blessings but sometimes I can't find God in my heart, sometimes I feel very alone in the world and I would give anything for it to be different to be able to say I have five Children three daughters, two sons and life is good".

I am sitting her in the sunroom, it looks different now, a new carpet, honeycomb blinds to keep the heat out in the summer, the old leather couch from Ikea is out here and all of Elliott's toys.  Remember when we had all of Noah's toys out here, it looked like a preschool...I am at the computer, a different one, and I am typing and crying and it feels good, I need to let it out.

Chantal re-occurred.  I am not sure what will happen but my fear is that she will die soon.  I am praying for something different.  I was once envious of David that he got to watch his daughter grow up, become a woman, live on her own, have boyfriends.  Now I am just painfully sad.  I pray that no matter what happens that she is not afraid.  If she transitions Stevie will you be there?

I remember this moment seven years ago, we were in that room at Muir, I could see the foothills and the tree's from the window, you hated the sun going down, and it disappeared into pink.   You were in so much pain, so afraid, I was so tired, I didn't know that was our last night ever.  I laid down next to you and we tried to sleep, 12 hours later you were gone.

I still have the shirt you were wearing.  Dad buried your little green slippers with the cherries on them in Thailand, on a beach.  We wanted a part of you there.  He also bought a little float covered in flowers, lit with candles and sent it floating out to sea.  I am sorry we never made it there while you were alive.

Forgive me Stevie for not doing more, for not being better, for not handling this with more grace.  It just never goes away.  The best I can do is stuff it down and live in the moment.  Then there are days like this when it just doesn't seem possible that the world just didn't stop the moment your heart did.

Tomorrow we will go to the cemetery.  I have your yellow tulips, some daisies and these obscene aqua colored flowers that are as big as my head.  When I found them I thought of you and had to have them, I am not sure how they will look out there but I don't care, I know if you could see them you would smile.

I am going to watch a video dad made of you tonight.  It is the one with you before the concert.  I love the way you look, your hair just out of the shower, long, auburn, wavy.  Your smile makes my heart swell, and your long fingers, beautiful hands and those eyes, I could see inside you through those eyes, all oceans, and dreams, and sweet things.

I am asking the same thing I always ask, "Are you out there, are you still you, are you happy, do you know how much I love and miss you, can you come home, just for a minute and tell me you are ok, that I will see your again?"

Oh Stevie thank you so much for being my girl.  Thank you for 19 years of loving and being loved by my favorite person.  Thank you for teaching me, forgiving me, getting me, and letting me be your mama.

Stay close, don't be too far away I miss you too much.

April

The weather turned and turned and now it is warm and the blossoms are falling from the fruit trees in the yard.  I put most of our garden in the beds dad built for me, four big squares frames by thick planks, filled with organic soil.  The plants are so small and fragile looking but I know as spring turns to summer the beds will be full and green and beautiful.

The pink tulip did not come up this year.

Your daffodils did.

April is a hard month.  Without warning the memories come back...that last days.  It is like my body has memory it know what April is, will always be and it goes into auto pilot.  I hate it but I embrace it too.  This is your time, it deserves to be honored, you deserve all my attention, and the pain is mixed with all the love.

Your brother is over 6 feet tall now, he is beautiful Stevie, you would be best friends.  He looks like you a little, he has your sense of style, he is a little stubborn too, in his own way.  Your sister is still living at home, she is grown up now but still needs to hold on to something here, any part of you she can, that is us, this house, these rooms.  Elliott is different, he is his own little person, like a little bulldog, he smells awesome, he is silly, and he loves

dandelions just like you.

I am getting wrinkly.  It happens, and its happening fast because I spent way too much of my youth in the sun before there was any such thing as sunscreen.  I am cooking again, making art, chasing Elliott around, still crazy, still me.

I miss you.

Everything keeps changing but some part of me is frozen in time because I can not let myself forget anything, I won't, it was too wonderful, even the shitty stuff.  I would give anything to go back for a day and just lay next to you while you read a fat book, to listen to your breath, to touch your cheek.

Don't be too far away, I need you close, I try to act tough but sweet girl I can not do this part by myself.

(Please God let there be a heaven, let my girl be there waiting for me, having fun, doing all the things she loves most, surrounded by people she loves who love her.  Let there be books and puppies, good coffee, music, soft clothes, big beds, full moons, and only falls and springs.)

I love you Stevie,

Mama

It's an ordinary day.  I woke up feeling better after having a cold then lying to the pharmacist that I was not sick so I could finally get a flu shot before it was too late, the result was feeling like absolute shit for 24 hours but today I am on the mend.

I am having a friend over  to bake so I thought it would be smart to maybe clean my neglected and for some reason always dirty kitchen.  Is it just me or do people who really use their kitchens just never have a clean kitchen?  I am not a pretty kitchen girl, I don't have a cookbook on an acrylic stand open to the same damn recipe everyday that I will never make but the photo is pretty, I don't have matching dishtowels perfectly folded over my oven handle, there isn't a vase of anything, and my cupboards are full of stuff I use often.  I am not a great cook but I do a lot of cooking, my stove always has a pot of something on it, my oven is scary, and I love my basket full of onions, garlic, lemons, and drying herbs from the garden.  The down side is that it usually looks like a bomb went off in here.

So today I decided to wipe the cupboards down, and mop the floor.  I mop like they do in Mexico and I use a wet soapy towel.  My feet have learned to move it around just the way I need it to, getting into the corners, putting more pressure in places that are little more grimy.  I love the way the warm water feels, and how the large towel seems to erase a weeks worth of foot prints, spills, drip, drops, and proof that I was there.

Today is an ordinary day and mopping up an ordinary chore but today something happened, and it happens when I least expect it, I fell apart.  I had my phone plugged into a speaker and I was playing a mix on Pandora.  Songs came, I sang, some where songs I knew some new to me.  Then "Somewhere over the Rainbow" by Iz began and I was transported to last days.

The first time I heard that song Stevie and I were in bed watching ER.  Dr. Greene was in Hawaii with his family dying from a brain tumor, his daughter put headphones on him as he lay sleeping and whispered, "I remember"  It was a baby song he sang to her, she wanted to let him know she knew he loved her and she loved him.  He left his body as the waves crashed outside his window, as the breeze carried Iz's beautiful melody out of the  television screen and into my heart, a heart that prayed that the girl next to me would always be next to me.  I squeezed her hand, we cried.

A few years later that song would play in the room she lay dying in and later at her funeral. Today it played in my kitchen and I couldn't breath.

I hold it together day in and day out.  I talk to my daughter on long walks, when I am afraid, when I just need to let her know I am thinking of her.  I visit her at the cemetery.  I dust her photo, kiss it and the smudge stays there until the next dusting.  I do these things and tell myself, "she never left, she is still here, you just can't touch her and see her".    But once in a while I am hit so hard and so unexpectedly that I am sure I will die from the grief.

I work through it, I sit down and cry.  I talk to her, I pray to what ever god might be interested, I tell myself that she is waiting, she is waiting, she is waiting, somewhere for me.

I sit here in tears, today is an ordinary day but it is also a hard day, my heart is hurting in unimaginable ways.  I am remembering things in snap shot and video clip;  Her bald head on a pillow, the way she tried to tell me she loved me, reading to her when she couldn't anymore, laying in the tub with her, the time she fell off her bike and cut her leg, her curled up nursing in my arms as a baby.  I don't want to forget any of it but it hurts to remember it, because she isn't here and I won't have anymore of anything...

It is almost seven years and you would thing some kind of magic would happen and faith would comfort me, time would erase all of this pain, I would accept this and that acceptance would move me from this place to the next, what ever that is.  It doesn't.

I am not stuck in my grief, I live my life, I find happy moments, I celebrated, I stay busy.  I do my best to keep my girl close but  also understand that where ever she is she has things she must do to.  That's how I do it, it isn't a cure it is a distraction.

Today will be an ordinary day, I will bake cupcakes, change diapers, pick Noah up from school, there will be homework, and dinner to make, laundry to fold, bills to pay but I will do it with a heavy heart, I will walk outside so my boys won't see my tears.  I will look at this baby of mine and thank the universe for him for the ten millionth time and pray that he stay safe and healthy.  I will look at Noah and see Stevie in him and think again how much she would have loved to know him now, he is just the kind of boy she thought was awesome.  I will try to forgive Aly for not loving me like Stevie did and forgive myself because I stopped loving Steve the way I use to.

When the sky turns pink I will ask one more time for God to allow Stevie to come to me and tell me she is OK, to finally allow my heart some peace.

Then I will wake up and it will be an ordinary day again.

26

I woke up early this morning thinking about you remembering our first hours together and our last.  I wrote in my journal and cried for all the moments I can not get back and all the memories we will never make.  I waited for you to come and tell me you were ok but no ghost found me.

Your brothers are wrapped around my heart keeping me busy, giving me a reason to wake up, smile, hope, and keep dreaming, it still hurts but they make it easier.  You would love the young man Noah has become and you would squeeze Elliott and kiss his big fat cheeks.  Oh sweet girl how we miss you.

Where are you pumpkin, please tell me there is a heaven so I can hold onto the promise that I will get to be with you again someday.  I love the dreamy idea that when you left your body your burst into stardust and became rain and waterfalls, petals on flowers, snowflakes, a blade of grass a tear, Elliott...but heaven, I want to believe you are still you, having fun, waiting, watching and I am still your mama.

Happy birthday to you sweet girl, my heart, you are so loved, so very loved.

We will go to the cemetery tonight, bring you flowers, cake, an apple from our tree.  We will pull up to the place where your body is and it will still feel like a dream, we will tidy up and cry, look at the view of the mountains, tell you we love you and go home.  I won't imagine you there in the ground, in a box, a person I can no longer touch or talk to.  I will keep looking up and telling myself "She just graduated before us, that is all, she is just where we are all going, saving us a place, smiling at how silly it all is really".

Today I kissed Elliott while he was sleeping and remembered kissing you as a baby, your big cheeks, the way you always smelled like fruit and flowers, and breast milk.  I loved the way you smelled, even after you left your body you smelled like oranges and love.  What I would give to simply touch your hand or hear your voice one more time.

I hope there is a celebration in heaven, even if birthdays are no longer important I know you love parties.  I hope you planned one with a great chocolate cake, creamy colored flowers, a big lawn with soft blankets and a cool band, a sky full of stars...

I am here bunny right were I have always been, I won't forget, I will never forget.

Thank you for 19 years with the smartest, bestest, funniest, lovliest, stubbornest, geekiest girl in the universe.

Still your mama buttercup,

Mom

Toms, boys, change and morning...

I took Elliott to buy his first pair of shoes on his birthday.  We had done the whole cake and party the Sunday before and it was fun.  I made yards of bunting in pic-nic colors, I frosted a baby blue cake, we had finger food, friends, swimming and piles of presents.  Yesterday was our day just me and the mouse.  I woke up early and watched his birth video, we took a long bubble bath, we went to the mall and bought Toms, ate chocolate cake and pasta for dinner and went to bed early.

Elliott is just starting to walk, taking those wobbly steps that start with one or two and double every couple days.  He loves learning to walk and I can't wait until he can run, I will have to chase him for a kiss but he is the kinda kid who needs to run in the grass, chase birds, climb trees.  My son has boy energy and it makes me love him just a little bit more, he is himself.

Noah has boy energy but he is zen, he is Ying-Yang, he is balanced, his masculine and feminine are aligned and it is beautiful.  He is tall and graceful, he sings and dances but he also loves to kick a ball and ride a bike.  He isn't competitive or aggressive, he is soft and kind and easy to get along with, I love that so very much.

My two boys, so very different.  I hope I can keep up with Elliott he is a boy on the move.  Noah did his time on the sports field, he enjoyed baseball, soccer, tennis, but his love and passion is for music and theater.  Elliott may be an athlete, he is built like one already.  Noah was kisses and cuddles and Elliott is a man of action.

I took him to Nordstrom to find a baby shoe for new walking feet and it seems his feet are way too big for those cute soft soled shoes.  I just can't see him in a clunky runner yet, his feet are still chubby and tender.  He would prefer to be barefoot forever, naked too but winter will be here before we know it and he will need to be use to shoes on his feet.

I decided on a pair of Toms.  They are a simple well made shoe with a semi-soft sole.  They are also a one for one shoe meaning for every pair purchased a pair is donated, I like that.  So for Elliott's birthday he got a cool pair of navy blue Toms and so did another kid.  I put them on him and he very quickly pulled them off and tried to eat them.

Noah's birthday is just around the corner.  He will be 14 and I told him he just hit the age where I think we are done with the big themed birthdays.  He likes expensive gifts and doing both just isn't in the budget or totally appropriate.  I told him we will have a big "16" but this year it will be a family dinner out with a couple friends, cake and presents.  He seemed Ok with it.  I got him a Penny board which is really a little kids sized retro skateboard that once cost 20 bucks but is now 100 bucks.  I also bought him some new jeans and a couple T's from his favorite place.

I wish Stevie was here, she would have loved to plan Elliott's party and she would have picked the Tom's too.  For her birthday we would have gone out to eat in Berkeley maybe the city.  She would have asked for some obscure gift that was hard to find.   I miss that kid, I can't believe she would be 26 this year.  I try to imagine what kind of music she would be listening to, what books she would be reading, would she still wear her hair in a pony tail?  What kind of glasses would she wear, would she go ultra geeky or would she do something a little more feminine?  What I would give to stay up late and talk in bed, watch her face scrunch up when she laughs, fall asleep to the sound of her voice.

This is my life, it is a good life really.  Noah is pure sunshine even as a moody teenager he brightens up my day.  Elliott is demanding, silly, smells like heaven and melts my heart with his giggles and gap between his teeth.  Aly...we struggle but she is figuring it out, slowly and not easily but everyday a tiny step forward and back and forward again.  I will never have with Aly what I had with Stevie, Aly is too angry, but she is herself and I am learning to love what is and has always been great about her.  She is smart and funny, gentle and good.

Steve and I try, we are a family and we do our best but we are very different people.  We do our best to be good to each other but there is an ocean...

I have days when I need a great big change, I want to sell this house and move far away, maybe another country.  I want to start over, build a new life in a new place and run away from the past, the things that are broken, the things that hurt.  This little house I never liked, this city I live in that is an ill-fit, landing here by accident well now it's home.  I never thought this is what "home" would look like for me.  Noah loves it here and it's a good place to raise Elliott.  I can't imagine anyone sleeping in Stevie's room or cutting down the fruit trees I planted.  The senior center is walking distance, I might appreciate that someday.

I wish to live in a community that values what I do, be surrounded by people who have similar interests, someone who I can swap gardening tips with, other artists to kick around ideas and share dinner with.  Families we can grill and take long walks with, a best friend just down the street.  This is a good place to live, it's safe.  It isn't pretty, my neighbors let their kids ride dirt bikes up and down the street all day, no one really knows each other, sports are a big deal, church is another, both of these I have no interest in.  I never fit in, I tried and try but it is always effort.

I am feeling a little sorry for myself this morning...I feel a need for change, a need to own my life and the direction it is going a little more.  There is an age when people get stuck and I don't want to get stuck here.  Don't get me wrong I love being a mom and the thought that one day there will no longer be children in my house terrifies me.  What I think I mean is I don't want to get stuck in this "me"  I want to keep growing, keep learning, reaching, exploring, there is so much I want to do, I feel like I am running out of time and this might be it, this might be the house I die in, these will be the clothes I always wear, this will be my hairstyle, and these will be the only stories I have.

I don't want to get stale and crusty, I need an adventure.  I want to be an amazing mom to Noah and Elliott, I don't want to be a person they will have to worry and care for.  I want to be an interesting person, I never want to be that ghosty-dusty Grandmother no one really wants to visit.  I think the boys and I may need to start saving for a vacation.

The sun is up, Elliott and Noah will be awake soon, I better leave the comfort of this warm bed and this computer and stop writing about change and adventure and start making it happen.

A year

Its early morning and I am up before everyone else, even the sun.  The house is quiet and dark and it's a warm morning.  We slept without blankets, windows wide open, the sound of traffic, crickets, someones dog barking.  I like waking up early it feels like I am in on some kind of secret, I get to experience the day before anyone else.

I was laying in bed thinking about September, a month of birthdays for us.  Elliott will be one this month, his party is on Sunday, how can a year have gone by so quickly?  I remember waking up early one morning on a day not unlike this one with a feeling I could not ignore, the need to be a mother again.

A year after Stevie died, when the grieving became less a shock and more a part of my life, I decided that I needed to try and have a baby.  There were all the concerns and red flags; Steve didn't want anymore children, he had a vasectomy, we were in an ugly place in our relationship, my heart was broken, I had a new business, Noah was keeping me busy, I was in my 40's....

I knew I would do this thing, it has happened before.  My rational brain can protest all it wants  but my heart has made a decision.  I didn't know how I would make it happen I just trusted it would.  I had no idea that it would be a long difficult journey and that I would have to go through much pain and heartache, that I would suffer loss again, that I would be pushed to my physical and emotional limits.  Even had I known I would have still done it.

Here we are.

It was worth it, it was all worth it.

He was born on the 19th.  I told Stevie if she was coming home she would need to be born on her birthday so I would know it was her.  Elliott was born on the day Stevie died instead...19 is a magic number, it is Stevie's number.  I think it was her telling me, "Now it's a day for celebration, I am right here, be happy mom, just be happy"  She could not come home but she sent this little man, told him we had a trampoline, ate cake for breakfast, spent our summers on a stinky houseboat, that we were loud and opinionated, told him we had a big Christmas even though mom says she hates Christmas.  She told him our house was full of music, bad magic tricks, family gatherings and dancing in the living room.

I sometimes look at him and wonder if he is Stevie but even if he was he is Elliott now, this is a new life, a new body, all new experiences.  If Stevie came back she would want to start over.  Elliott is all boy, Stevie was a girl, loved being a girl.  He has big hands, a cleft in his chin, he is strong, big Pond colored eyes.  He is stubborn like she was, has the same cheeks but that is the only similarity I can find.

Elliott is not an easy baby, he makes me work for it.  He is stingy with his kisses, he nurses like a wild boy, he wants to drive the car, be up high, he wants to pick up heavy stuff, he loves gears and gadgets, he loves to be outside and once he starts walking (he is almost there) I am in trouble, he will be a kid on the move.

He is himself and I love getting to know him.

I imagined a little girl with Stevie's eyes and she would get to do all the things that Stevie didn't get the chance to.  We would start from the beginning and I would be the perfect mom and she would have days filled with bike rides, roller skates, camping trips, she would learn to ski, I would fill her room with new books, a down comforter, a night light...

Instead there is this man baby with little muscles who can move tables and pick up heavy rocks, a little super hero.  We sleep in Stevie's bed he kicks all the covers off and bites when he nurses at night.  He wakes up early demanding milk and starts the day off climbing things.  Naked he looks like a baby gorilla.

God I love that boy.

Thank you Stevie he is perfect.

This month I will celebrate Elliott's first birthday with a house full of friends and family and a pic-nic themed party.  Then we will remember Stevie and go to visit her, bring flowers and cake and I will try to imagine her being 26...then it will be Noah's 14th birthday, a trip to the ice skating rink with a handful of friends, pizza, and birthday cake.

Time is moving so quickly.

The sun is up now and my little hercules is stirring.  It is time to start the day.

4am

It's four in the morning, I can't sleep.  the house is quiet full of my sleeping family and visiting relatives.    In a few hours I will make a big breakfast for everyone and the day will start, plans will be made,  a summer day will begin.

It is dark in this room there is a soft glow from the computer screen so I can see the baby curled up lost in his milky slumber all cheeks and big hands.  He fills me up that little boy of mine, I love him so very much.  I knew he would bring me comfort but I could have never imagined how much he would squeeze my heart and change my life.

It has been a Stevie week.  I wake up with her songs in my head and I play them because it feels like I should, it's how we communicate.  The closer I feel her the heavier my heart is but I embrace that ache because it's what I have.  I feel a shift, I feel like she is bringing me closer to something and I want to be open to her even if it hurts.

It has been six years since she left, her birthday is fast approaching and there is always this "feeling" when touchstone days are just up ahead, it's like returning...

The song that has been stuck in my head this week has been "When She Loved Me" and I have played it over and over.

When somebody love me,
Everything was beautiful
Every hour we spent together lives within my heart
And when she was sad,
I was there to dry her tears
And when she was happy
so was I
When she loved me

Through the summer and the fall
We had each other that was all
Just she and I together
like it was meant to be

And when she was lonely,
I was there to comfort her
And I knew she loved me

So the years went by
I stayed the same
But she began to drift away
I was left alone
Still I waited for the day
When she would say
I will always love you...

 Lonley and forgotten
I never thought she'd look my way
She smiled at me and held my hand just like she used to do
Like she loved me
When she loved me

When somebody loved me 
Everything was beautiful
Every hour we spent together 
lives within my heart


When she loved me



I am mother who is missing her daughter, it is that simple.  This is difficult in all its stages and there is no one place you arrive and say "Ok I am fine now, I can move on" You simply live because you must and you find great love, happiness, and meaningful things to do but nothing is ever like it should be, there is always a missing piece, a longing, an ache, a need for answers.

There are moments when a sense of peace finds you, it blows through you like a warm breeze, you sigh and for just a moment you whisper "Ok, I am Ok, I get it" then it fades, it's gone then you go back to the dishes, you plant your garden, you cry in the shower, you kiss a baby and you think love and loss are the same intense thing to fully embrace one you must embrace the other.

After six years I am still waiting for her.  I have this fantasy that she will wake me up at four in the morning.  I will open my eyes and she will be sitting on this bed smiling, her voice soft, only I will hear it, no lips just our minds speaking to each other.  She will answer all my questions and I will be able to finally let go...I will exhale I will know she is where she is most happy and all the things I thought I needed to tell her she will already know.  

Until then I look for pink skies, I play her songs, I sleep in her bed, I touch her books, I stay busy, I kiss Elliott and Noah one extra time for her, I try to be Aly's friend because if Stevie were here she would do the same.  I hold this family together because I need for us to be a shining light she can find when she needs us, I can't stand to think of us scattered.

I wake up at this hour that is almost morning but still night, this in-between place, I wait...