Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Goodbye to The Puss
Sunday, July 24, 2011
July 3rd -- Happy News
Miranda called on the 3rd to say that Joshua and she will get married next year. Such happy news. And how thoughtful of Joshua to choose this time to propose--on the 3rd of July--giving us a joyful memory to add to all the sad ones of the holiday.
Miranda was feeling a little guilty going away for the weekend, when she has spent the last three anniversaries in some form of mourning. When she called to tell me, she mentioned that. I said what I always say to myself, that Kyle spent the 4th and most of the 5th joyous and happy and with George and Laura at Santa Cruz and the beach and in a bookstore, and that it wasn't until the night of the 5th that the nightmare started.
But now, we have Miranda's marriage to Joshua to look forward to. He is a dear and loving man, supportive, caring, strong, thoughtful. I am gaining a wonderful son.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
4 years ago tonight
we gathered tonight. a lovely group. nothing formal. george, andrew, sean, brian, esther, nadia, barb, marylou, di, siena, sel & sal, nancy, olivia, johnny, and great surprise - paul j. & james w/ carl.
the coyote showed up, some bunnies. later crows. still later after everyone but me and ML had left, a family of deer. momma, poppa & baby. politely, they didn't go for Ky's flowers or the plant that the harewoods brought. they stayed around, moving across Abiding Love and then across the hillside and then down and across the street to lower fields. as i drove away and around the bend, i had to wait for them as they crossed another street in front of me.
became aware today of wanting the silence that it takes to let the feelings come. purposefully didn't play the radio, except classical music. became more aware of how talk and food and drink takes up the space and dulls the emotions. maybe i am more afraid of the flow of feelings now than in the past.
it's not that i didn't cry or didn't feel. it's that i didn't linger, didn't quite face everything today, tonight.
dearest son, beautiful boy. i miss you.
the coyote showed up, some bunnies. later crows. still later after everyone but me and ML had left, a family of deer. momma, poppa & baby. politely, they didn't go for Ky's flowers or the plant that the harewoods brought. they stayed around, moving across Abiding Love and then across the hillside and then down and across the street to lower fields. as i drove away and around the bend, i had to wait for them as they crossed another street in front of me.
became aware today of wanting the silence that it takes to let the feelings come. purposefully didn't play the radio, except classical music. became more aware of how talk and food and drink takes up the space and dulls the emotions. maybe i am more afraid of the flow of feelings now than in the past.
it's not that i didn't cry or didn't feel. it's that i didn't linger, didn't quite face everything today, tonight.
dearest son, beautiful boy. i miss you.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Giving Away Ky's Clothes
This isn't easy. It's 3 and 1/2 years. S. and R. have slowly moved Kyle's clothes out of his room and into bags, first behind my headboard and then---when I was getting the place painted and new rugs put down---out onto the balcony. They've been out there almost a year now. But it's time to deal with it, but I'm just procrastinating.
It's time to say goodbye to his clothes and I can't bare it. It's helped that R. has started to wash some things, but I want really don't want her to. I can't bear that I won't be able to bury my head in a sweatshirt and smell my boy.
A family friend, who is very tall and is a housepainter, could really use the clothes, even all the paint stained things. We found three jackets -- one brand new. I feel good that Ky's clothes will go to someone who needs them. Things he can't use he'll pass on to others who can. I found so many pairs of Dickey pants -- in great condition except for the paint stains. I know I bought Ky a bunch of his Dickey stuff, but other than the paint stains, several pairs seem to be almost brand new. I found a black Dickey shirt without stains. I put it on. I'm wearing it still. Don't think I'll be able to part with it.
One of the saddest things for me, his mom, is all his boxers. I recognize all the boxers. Kids don't buy boxers; they let moms do it. Each was worn and washed so much the cloth is thin. He clearly never threw any out.
I don't want to give away Kyle's clothes. I want my son to come back and get them.
It's time to say goodbye to his clothes and I can't bare it. It's helped that R. has started to wash some things, but I want really don't want her to. I can't bear that I won't be able to bury my head in a sweatshirt and smell my boy.
A family friend, who is very tall and is a housepainter, could really use the clothes, even all the paint stained things. We found three jackets -- one brand new. I feel good that Ky's clothes will go to someone who needs them. Things he can't use he'll pass on to others who can. I found so many pairs of Dickey pants -- in great condition except for the paint stains. I know I bought Ky a bunch of his Dickey stuff, but other than the paint stains, several pairs seem to be almost brand new. I found a black Dickey shirt without stains. I put it on. I'm wearing it still. Don't think I'll be able to part with it.
One of the saddest things for me, his mom, is all his boxers. I recognize all the boxers. Kids don't buy boxers; they let moms do it. Each was worn and washed so much the cloth is thin. He clearly never threw any out.
I don't want to give away Kyle's clothes. I want my son to come back and get them.
Monday, December 14, 2009
It's been a while . . .
In my mind, I have started many new entries. But, I guess I don't actually blog because the searing pain of losing Kyle has subsided and my drive to make sense of things has lessened. Or maybe I'm at a plateau where I understand as much as I'm going to for a while.
For months, I have wanted to write about magical thinking. Although I tend to be rooted in the rational, I spent weeks talking to a flickering street lamp when out walking my dog at night, half believing it was Kyle. My sister Sal, who has always been a bit psychic, says that messing around with electricity is something that spirits can pull off. (She's convinced that Kyle was the one setting off our fire detectors in the middle of the night.) I don't buy it really, but the street lamp had an uncanny ability to blink off or on or flicker right at the end of my questions I posed. While not believing, I still couldn't not speak to him, just in case. How could I abandon my boy, stuck in another dimension.
Then one night, the darned lamp was bright bright, no pulsing on and off anymore. In fact, it was so bright, I could barely look at it. Someone had fixed the lamp and Ky was clearly no where near. I felt a little silly, having spent time talking to a lamppost way after dark.
Thank you being there, for reading. My hope is that it helps or illumines something or, by telling one mother's story it tells many mothers' story.
Kyle is in my thoughts throughout every day. I miss him terribly still.
For months, I have wanted to write about magical thinking. Although I tend to be rooted in the rational, I spent weeks talking to a flickering street lamp when out walking my dog at night, half believing it was Kyle. My sister Sal, who has always been a bit psychic, says that messing around with electricity is something that spirits can pull off. (She's convinced that Kyle was the one setting off our fire detectors in the middle of the night.) I don't buy it really, but the street lamp had an uncanny ability to blink off or on or flicker right at the end of my questions I posed. While not believing, I still couldn't not speak to him, just in case. How could I abandon my boy, stuck in another dimension.
Then one night, the darned lamp was bright bright, no pulsing on and off anymore. In fact, it was so bright, I could barely look at it. Someone had fixed the lamp and Ky was clearly no where near. I felt a little silly, having spent time talking to a lamppost way after dark.
Thank you being there, for reading. My hope is that it helps or illumines something or, by telling one mother's story it tells many mothers' story.
Kyle is in my thoughts throughout every day. I miss him terribly still.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Now that's a relief . . .
They've finally announced it. MJ will not be at Forest Lawn in the Hollywood Hills. He will be at FL in Glendale. Thank heavens.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
i love finding another picture
i love it when i find pictures of Kyle. i don't remember taking this one. i believe it was the last time he was in LA, possibly Memorial Day weekend. he is packing the great green bag that his dad gave him and my sister sallie will soon be driving him to Santa Monica to take the commuter bus back up to San Francisco. the look on his face is not the challenging, "Mom, stop it with the camera," it's more a look of "Okay, i'll indulge you one more time." as ever, there are his long, strong, beautiful hands.
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