my joy

inside, my body tick tocks with the clocks of my ancestors’ sacrifices — to the oppressors and the haters, from then up til now. but it also chimes with the strength of my mother and the lessons from my father, and the love that falls in between.

Dear Mom,

I saw this ladybug card a few days ago and thought of you. And of Katie. And it brought back so many memories – mostly our gardening adventures and the revival of our “Hopey” tree. So this is a little thank you for being a big inspiration in my life.

Thank you for having me, for loving me, for raising me. For giving me both a sister and a brother. For kissing my cuts and listening to my problems, no matter the size of their true importance in the long run. For teaching me to share. For attending my games, concerts, and shows. For giving me the choice to follow my passions. For choosing McAuley. For saying no, a lot. For saying yes. For making so many sacrifices so that we may have what we need and more. For loving Dad and for showing us what a healthy, happy, real relationship looks like (corny jokes and heated fights included), and for teaching us that a relationship like the one you two have isn’t easy, that it takes patience and love and respect and hard work and compromise, but it is worth it. For finding the courage to ask him out in the first place, and for being his friend before that. For encouraging my dream to travel. For letting me go to explore the world. For wanting me to come back, and for understanding when I say “not yet”. For believing in me even when I don’t believe in myself. For being a mom to all of my friends, even the ones that sucked. For going on strike to teach us a lesson. Multiple times. For writing me a card when Cody died and for kissing my forehead and holding my hand when we lost Katie, and when I lost Steven. And for raising me to be a strong, self-sufficient female in a world parading behind the mask of “The Man”.

You, Mom, Madrecita, Mamacita, Mamason, are a leader, an intellectual, an artist, a hard working student and professional badass. I love you and I miss you.

F.e. F.a. NMW xoxo

the time in between

it was so late that it was early.
the grass collecting the dew of the dawn,
and the crickets quieting their song,
but the birds not yet waking from their slumber.

it was that time in between the set and the rise,
between the fight and the love,
the time between the day and the night.

it was the deepest, darkest moment before the
colors of the sun became visible above the hills.

we counted the stars,
you and i.
we tried to count them all.

and it was the happiest moment
i have lived.

because you lived it with me.

the little things…

I remember
laying my head in your lap
and
listening to Rascal Flatts
and thinking
how lucky I am to know this guy.

you were the first person I truly trusted.
nothing much has changed.
and our lives have put time and distance and
oceans between us,

but nothing much has changed.
because i love you and you love me
and we know each others’ deepest secrets and
most ridiculous wishes
and because we talked about our funerals,
what color everyone should be wearing when we die,
what brand of whiskey everyone should toast with at the reception,
what songs should play as they lower our bodies into the earth.

and we haven’t talked in a while.
but I know that you’re doing well
and that
you’re in love
and that
you’re starting to smile again and that’s amazing
and that makes me smile too.
but I miss you.
so call me sometime?

I find beauty in…

A lot of wonderful promotions and hashtags are going around, particularly #20beautifulwomenchallenge , at the moment. Which has gotten me thinking about what I find beautiful, and how I define beauty – whether that be the same or the opposite of what the media or the world seems to be defining beauty as today. Here are some rambling thoughts about beauty.

—————————————————————————————————————

I find beauty in the ocean. In confidence. In having faith even when life tells you not to. In blue skies and snowfalls and a cup of tea or coffee with a close friend. In tears on my pillow and in reconnecting with someone from the past. In creating new friendships. In the sadness I feel when someone does not know how truly amazing and beautiful they are – and in having the opportunity to share my true feelings with them. In men with trimmed beards and men who are clean shaven. In apologies. In women who dye their hair and women who do not. I find beauty in the strength it takes to make a stand. In the motto “don’t yuck someone else’s yum.” In music that makes you feel like dancing or crying or laughing; in wanting so badly to meet the artist who wrote the words etched in your soul. In the actions we take when we come together to fight a power that has attempted to destroy us. In giving your last five dollars to the homeless man who is always on your street – without the assumption or judgment that he will use it for drugs or alcohol; being able to give without the thought or expectation of receiving. In memoirs. In made up fantasy worlds that mean something to a generation, or that mean something to just one person. In foster parents who take in children and love them so very much, even with the knowledge that the child will be taken away in six months or less. In artists who face their fears and in athletes who defy stereotypes. In diversity. In honesty. In tattoos that cover a body, no matter what the age. In Maya Angelou’s words “Phenomenal Woman” – and in her following, because she was brilliant and honest and kind. I find beauty in a change of pace, in moving to a new place and exploring; in traveling, and how much it changes you. In chucks and flannels and timberland boots. In ginger hair. In deep brown skin. In curls and smiles and heartfelt tears. In jokes at funerals, and story time at night. In the word “chachis” and what it came to mean. In school uniforms, but not because society has a ridiculous and disgusting fetish – because that place changed my path. In ice cream and chats at three in the morning with my Dodi (grandma). In family and all its quirks. In telling someone about a traumatic event, and having their response be supportive and loving. In soft green sweaters and napping in the sun. In getting high and just soaking in the world. In being sober. In mirrors, and in the absence of mirrors. In men who wear glasses. I find beauty in dragonflies and ladybugs and the color purple. In the strength someone shows when they face a terminal illness; and in the fear that comes and goes with that knowledge. I find beauty in complicated people. I find beauty in costume jewelry, because that’s all my Nana wore. In wrinkles, because they show that you have lived. And in Dorothy Allison’s “Two or Three things I know for sure.” It changed my life.

on this train

Two tiny brothers sit on the train, the elder of the two, the “big”,
reads a story about Superman and
bananas.

“Superman hears a cry for help!”

tiny fingers dance across the page, sharp and quick,
pointing to each word,
carefully teaching the “little” to read.

this is the third round.
of the same book.

the big seems agitated, but smiles secretly, proudly, as the little
is enthralled in the story and the pictures.

the sister on the right side is
preoccupied
with her royal blue
balloon animal. Untwisting the dog
until it becomes a snake.
unfolding and recreating.
then popping.
then twirling and listening carefully to the story
the big reads to the little.

this is the fourth round.

the sister wraps the pieces of her popped balloon around the pole,
dancing the plastic to the rhythm of the words,
curling the balloon until it twists like her hair.

this is the fifth round.

“when do we get off?”
Mom’s reply – “in a bit”

the big, in his quiet voice, reaches over and taps
his sister – “Mal. We’re getting off!”
and the little makes a fist with his right hand,
stretches his right arm above his head and cries
“I’ll save you!”
They laugh, the big and the sister playing along.

and they get off.

peace and quiet.
but it’s not enjoyable.
too quiet.
cellphones out and headphones in and
the avoidance of human connection once again
ensues.

I would much rather see love on the train.