the 5th of july

we tried to gather at 5:30 at Forest Lawn.
easier said than done.
the news vans had been gathered since the prior morning following the rumor that MJ was at the mortuary. although i had been assured on saturday that the cemetery entry gates would not be closed until 6pm, at about 5:20 a security man came by to tell me that the park was now closed and had been since 5pm. i protested of course, telling him i had spoken with FL folks the day before and that i received permission to hold a small gathering at my son's grave at 5:30. he wrote down kyle's name and said he'd let people through. most everyone still had some problems getting in and one car of ky's buds was turned away. we were able to call them and have them turn around and eventually we were all gathered together: sallie and sel; siena and justin; dorian, nancy, and johnny; george, andrew, and aaron; courtnay; nadia, sabrina and their mom ursula; flynn and sonia; rhea and me.


we sat on ky's quilts (his favorite from aunt della), burned incense, and told stories. i played a few clips of his voice. we laughed a lot. just after 7:00, we stood in a circle and said goodbye. it was good.

it's the 4th of july 2009

first of all, two years ago all day long, kyle was alive and happy and with people he loved and who loved him. two years ago he called me to wish me Happy 4th. it was a quick call, which i regret to remember i rushed a little. the last words he said to me were, "i'll call you when i'm back in the city." and of course, "love you." we never spoke without saying "love you" at the end.

today on my way to ER to see a client, i went to Forest Lawn. even tho i'll be there tomorrow night, i wanted to visit and bring a plant for Kyle, which i put in a wire holder to keep it from turning over, rolling away, or burning the grass underneath. the other reason i went to FL is that on the news last night it was announced that a recently deceased super pop star may be there and i feared that traffic would interfere with our small gathering tomorrow night.

on arrival i was distressed to see many news vans and a couple of patrol cars. a police officer told me that tomorrow at some point the cemetery would be closed. i went inside to the reception desk and was relieved when assured that the park would never be closed except at the end of the day. so our 5:30 gathering is on.

i am back at home.
starting to feel a dull dreading.
i recognize that feeling.

It will be two years on Sunday

on sunday july 5th, it will be the 2nd anniversary of kyle's accident.
last year, some of us gathered together at kyle's grave at Forest Lawn.


this year on sunday, july 5th, at 5:30 --
if you're in los angeles and available --
please join me for a similar brief informal get together.
(Abiding Love section of Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills, Forest Lawn Drive, Los Angeles)

Forest Lawn closes at 6:00pm altho last year we stayed until past 7pm --about the time of ky's accident-- thanks to the understanding of the security folk. they don't close the gates until way after 6.

please let me know if you are going to be there.
and please pass this on to anyone you know you may be interested.

The Coyote

I forgot to mention, that on the anniversary of Ky's accident, while we sat by his grave at Forest Lawn, the coyote came by. To pay his respects? Not sure. Most likely to see if we had any goodies. It was nice to see him.

The 5th of July: Part I - The Day Begins

In a little while Ky's friends will arrive: George, Sean, Andrew, Phil, and Flynn. Cousin Dev will come too. It was hard to know how to spend this day being with his closest buds, with those who loved him and miss him. Later I'll go to visit Ky at Forest Lawn.

I'm putting on the reggae and chillin the beers.
The guest of honor, unfortunately, can not attend.

April 13, 1985

On Sunday, it will be Kyle's 23rd birthday. The picture above is of Kyle, minutes old, in the arms of his dad. Kyle was two weeks overdue. As a boy he used to laugh and say that he didn't want to come out because he was so comfortable in there. The doctor got concerned, so he gave Gear and I some articles to read about inducing and told us to talk it over at dinner and then if we were comfortable about it, to just head to the hospital. So late in the evening about 11pm, the nurses started to induce labor. That kicked things off and eventually I had about 10 hours of hard labor (less than with Miranda), but then pushed for 3 hours before the doctor said he was going to have to perform a Caesarean.

Kyle Campbell Whitham McLeod was born at about 6:36 pm. He was 22 inches long and weighed 9 pounds, 15 and 1/4 ounces. We were pretty impressed with that weight, but the same day at the Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital a 13 pound baby girl was born. If Kyle got to be 6'8" I wonder how big that girl is today. He had the biggest hands and the longest fingers and Gear said, "Piano playing power forward." Kyle was so wide awake under the lights in the nursery that the nurses had to take him into their dark station for him to get some sleep. Ky's big sister, Miranda, welcomed him home a few days later and just adored him. With our boy, our little family felt complete.

On Ky's birthday, I'll be up north in Cupertino attending a memorial event by the Musculoskeletel Tissue Foundation. There will be recipients there and there will be a slide show of all of last year's donors. It may seem a little odd to be doing this; but I'm feeling drawn up north again and I'm not put off by public grieving rituals. At least I'll be crying with a bunch of other people for a change, in a place where crying is expected. And I think it might be harder to be at Forest Lawn, which is where I'd be otherwise.

But I will celebrate a little bit at Forest Lawn tomorrow, before I leave town. I'm bringing some sandalwood incense to burn and a little battery run speaker (that I had given Ky) to play some reggae, and I have a tiny little bottle of bubble stuff--I'll probably leave that there for any of you who will be visiting him. I'll bring some flowers of course. It's odd not having food around when thinking about celebrating a birthday, particularly Kyle's, but of course you can't leave food around a grave, what with ants and coyotes.

So if you're in town and free on Sunday, the 13th, consider giving Ky a visit or-- wherever you are--maybe raise a glass to Kyle and say a few words. If Ky were here he would be partying: with music and friends and libation and laughter. And it would be all good, wouldn't it.

Dearest boy, I love you and miss you and carry you in my thoughts and heart every moment. Happy Birthday, Kyle.

Care of Kyle's Grave & Little Dog Lost

I visited Kyle at Forest Lawn yesterday.

Planter care: The planter, so lovingly given by Di, is doing well. The rosemary is growing and I think you should feel free to take a piece when you visit. It smells so wonderful and it's probably best for the plant to be pruned a bit, because if it gets too unwieldy on unsightly or dies, the workers will remove the planter.

If you visit Kyle's grave, would you move the planter several inches from whatever spot it is in, enough to give the grass underneath a chance to breathe and a chance for the earwig family to scamper around and get freaked out before they move back in underneath. I had placed the planter slightly above Ky's marker, and when I picked it up the grass was yellow and the earwigs were in abundance. So I have moved it lower on the grave. Frequent moving should help keep the grass fresh.

BTW I noticed that both sticks of incense have been burnt. Kyle burnt incense all the time and carried those sticks in his bag. I am comforted thinking Kyle can smell it when it's burning, along with the rosemary. I'll bring by more next week.

I am sad to report Flynn's little bull dog has disappeared. I looked around quite a bit on others' markers and in the grass, to no avail. I knew it was inevitable, but still it is sad to have Kyle's little companion gone. I'm sorry, Flynn, but thank you for leaving your little rubber dog. It was a sweet gift.

(Hey, if he shows up again, put him in a corner of the planter. That would keep him safe.)

mother load

the mailbox tonight brought more hard news.
the recipient of kyle's lungs has died.
the letter from the donor people just said that he "experienced a decline in health" and that's all i know. except i remember that he came from Los Angeles and that his operation may have been done at Cedars. it hit me hard. i had felt like i was losing kyle all over again.

but that happened tonight.
this morning, when i was driving to Forest Lawn i had an image of Kyle's body starting to decay and it took me by surprise. i'm sorry for bringing this up; i know it's grotesque. i've entertained a similar thought before and it hadn't bothered me so much but this morning it was more real and i was horrified.

in the process of losing kyle, i find myself running toward or even embracing what might be off-putting. i have no choice. i haven't had a choice since the phone call. i pushed headlong toward the truth. "is he going to die?" i asked gearey directly. in the hospital i had to touch and kiss his wounded face. i had to wash his feet and hands and clean his nails. at the grave, i had to stay to see my son descend into the earth. i had to interpret every word in the ambulance bill and i had to read every page of the autopsy report (only once, though. then i put it back in the envelope and won't read it for a long time). when i asked gear if he read the report, he said "just some of it, i couldn't read it all. why would i want to? no."

i know i will visit the train station some day. i will meet with the detective and see the place he fell. i will touch the cold cement platform. i will search for signs of blood. and i will seek out the emergency technicians. and i may go back to the hospital.

what is this need? i'm not sure. part of it, though, is that kyle went through all of this by himself. he climbed, he fell, he was sped in the ambulance to the hospital, he was put on the respirator, he was taken off, he was pronounced dead, he was relieved of his organs, he had the autopsy, he was picked up by the mortuary and brought to LA in a refrigerated vehicle, he was dressed and laid in the coffin, and he was buried in the ground.

the least his mom can do--if she can't be there for him at every moment--is to learn as much as she can about it all. a mother cannot shirk from this. or at least this mother cannot.

today when i reached kyle's grave, there was the lovely wooden box of plants which ky's Aunt Di had placed next to the marker. the most prominent plant was the fragrant rosemary. i was glad she put in rosemary, as we often had rosemary growing at the house. i remembered how much we all loved hot rosemary bread. all the images that had troubled me earlier were long gone. i lit one of kyle's sticks of incense and placed it in the planter.

Update: Ky's Little Protector

Flynn left this tiny pup on Ky's grave on December 15th. When I visit Kyle, I always expect it will be gone--picked up by the caretakers or ground up by the grass cutter trucks. But here he is. He's survived 2 months, now. Pretty darned good. And he's got that little 07 around his neck that Ky's cousin Dev left. So, in spite of Forest Lawns' policies and crack maintenance crew, it is possible to have a little individuality hanging out there. I believe Kyle would be all for it.

So if you visit Kyle at Forest Lawn--

at the eastern edge of Abiding Love
up the hill
between the prominent Mitchell statue on the west
and the four pine tress on the east
down 6 rows from the tree nearest the top
in between Mr. Lewis and Mr. Bacon--

if you do visit, look carefully for the little rubber bull dog. He should be safely in the corner of the marker. If not, look around for him, would you?

Dia de los Muertos

went to ky's grave early saturday morning. around 9am because i had non-stop clients scheduled and by the time my workday ended, it would be dark. i'm not sure i am up to a visit in the dark; my coyote mightn't be as respectful as last time.

morning fog hadn't quite cleared, but the flower selling folk were out early on forest lawn drive. this day $5 buys 3 quite beautiful roses, a sprig of that dried little purple flower filler stuff, a couple of ferns.

as i enter and drive through Forest Lawn i am struck by all the flowers. hundreds and hundreds of bouquets sprinkle the fields of graves. i pass a Latino famiy sitting out with campchairs, spending a leisurely time with their loved one. i immediately think, "Dia de los Muertos," but i can't remember when Dia de los Muertos is. but maybe it was this week because Halloween was this week and isn't Halloween really All Hallow's Eve? the night before All Saints' Day? this obviously has been a week of serious mourning and i am not alone in my grieving.

ky's grave has greened now. the cooler temperatures. the brief rains. the morning dew. all have contributed. you almost cannot tell it's a recent grave. recent only to me. it will be 4 months soon, but it feels like a few weeks.

i brought a flannel sheet to sit down on. and incense. actually kyle's incense box/holder that Mary Lou gave to him last Christmas Eve. she brought presents for us all: ky, miranda, sallie, and me (i curl up every night on the couch in the soft green throw blanket she gave me). she was unsure whether it was the right gift for kyle, but he loves incense and having a long, thin, handsome box--that doubles as a holder--was a perfect choice. i didn't know how perfect until i found it in the green canvas bag he was living out of when he died.

i tried to light the incense with the car cigarette lighter, but i couldn't get it to stay burning well and by the time i climbed the hill to his grave it was out. but i arranged the flowers in the vase and stuck the incense in there too.

i didn't stay long, needing to get to the office. but stayed long enough to breathe in the cool morning air and to see the fog start to burn off in the hills to the east. and to tell him i loved him and missed him. and to ask him to let me know he is okay. and i stayed long enough to tell him that Courtnay and Nadia had just returned from their interfaith trip to Istanbul and Israel, where they prayed at the Wailing Wall--for him and for peace.

with love and peace for the dead and for the living . . .

Coyote Beautiful

Last night I left my office, ran an errand, and got to the cemetery just at 6pm. The heavenly-gate sized gates were half closed and the sign on the gate said hours were "8 a.m. to 6 p.m." On the inside of the gate I could see a security type guy, standing beside a security type car, talking to a man who was sitting in the driver's seat of his car. It looked like the security guy was explaining that it was too late and he'd have to leave. I burst into tears.

How could I have been so irresponsible. I had plenty of time. I'd stopped at CVS to get a birthday card for Louise. I'd bought a lipstick. I'd picked up a Reese's peanut butter cup. I noticed it was late when no flower sellers were on the side of the road getting off the 134. I should have realized cemeteries don't stay open all night. They have a closing time.

But, eternal optimist that I am, I drive in anyway, drive up to the guy, wind down the window. Sobbing, I explain that I just want to visit for a few minutes, that I live across town, that I want to see my son, that I screwed up on my timing.

He interrupted me, calmly, and said, "Sure, ma'm, there's a wedding in there tonight. Stay as long as you like." I started crying more, in relief. God, if we could collect my tears and desalinize them I could hydrate southern California single handedly.

So I drove in and wound my way passed families clustered beside their loved one's graves, watching the sun sink toward the west. Some sitting in folding chairs. Bouquets of flowers everywhere. I parked at Abiding Love and climbed the hill. I greeted Ky, apologized for my lack of flowers, tried to figure out how I could share the Reese's without drawing ants, and settled on eating the insides and folding the wrapper carefully and tucking it inside the vase's lining. I didn't think he'd mind.

It was beautiful there. Peaceful, cool. The sun was sinking and the colors of the sky were changing. Then, off to my left, I spotted a coyote prancing down the hill. He stopped not far from me, our eyes met, and luckily he continued his path down the banking, across the narrow street, and into the next field of graves. He seemed sure of himself and quite dignified. I knew for sure it was a coyote. We have a lot of them in Los Angeles. His snout was long, his ears pointy. He looked quite at home, so I hoped he was comfortable sharing the grounds with us grieving folk. Comfortable enough to leave me alone. I tried to take a picture of him on my cell phone.

I love Ky's space. Our space. It's hard, but essential, to visit him. I cry, tell him again how much I love him and miss him. Clean sticks off his grave. Look at the sky. Watch the birds and the squirrels. And last night, I met a coyote.