Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
There is something I need to know from you that only you can tell me. Do you think me a coward for not confronting your killer?
I so wish there was something that I did, something dramatic that I could hang onto in my memory for these times when I am so angry at the injustice of your murder and have nothing to show for, at the very least spitting in his face when I had the chance.
Last night I dreamed that I was walking up that hill that led to both our houses. I encountered a horse who was very friendly to me, kept trying to connect with me. I followed her up the hill; she was leading me somewhere and I lost track how close I was getting to your killer's house. Suddenly I was right even with one of the windows and I ducked quickly and headed back down the hill. Your killer saw me and grabbed his shot gun, standing just inside his doorway. He shouted: "Stop where you are!" I kept walking, ignoring his threats, daring him to shoot me.
I don't know what that dream means except that it has stirred up again how unresolved this will always be. I will never know if he has suffered enough, or any, for that matter. I will never have a memory of spitting my seething anger at him. I feel like a coward. I had nothing to lose after you were murdered: what would it have mattered if, after I buried you, I had gone to his doorstep and looked him in the face and just spit at him. Just spit and said that he and his family were lucky I didn't own a gun. Curse him. Scare him. Give him a memory of me that would linger into his nights forever. Be the Erinyes.
No, I did not do any of that. Phoenix, do you think me a coward? Did I not live up to the ferocious womyn I claim to be? I know that had I done anything directly ferocious, it would not have changed the fact that you were murdered, dead, gone. But, it would have given me some sense of having done something in your honor that might have stirred up some regret, some fear of retribution, some stream of justice. That's what I want: justice.
So, two things I ask: one, do you think me a coward, dear Phoenix guardian companion? And two: I ask the WEb to send me a sign, some Wu, that there has been some bigger Justice in this matter. Justice, it's a lot to ask of this world. And I ask the WEb, that which has kept you and I connected these few years, these many days and months, for some information that could only come in these Wu ways. Dear WEb, I need to know.
Open to the Wu and loving you always, Phoenix,
Me
Friday, May 16, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Day of Mourning, Here Again at the Keyhole of a Needle
A day of mourning, March 19th. It's been four years, beloved Phoenix on the WEb, since you were taken from me, since Hades pulled the trigger on you life, on the Life that was you and I. The original meaning of the word, " to mourn" is "to remember." Today I have dedicated the day to remember all of that Life that was you and I. I've allowed the day to flow with whatever is needed for the mourning.
Right now, the light is changing in the sky and I feel my insides getting anxious, frantic and agitated, downright shaky, short of breath and scared. The time of your murder is approaching and even though I was not home when he killed you, my body has some knowing it was around 6:30 pm. This is the keyhole of the needle I must pass through all alone, to use Chris Williamson's words again. A keyhole like a rabbit hole into the trauma vortex that feel like swirling rapids, perilous and dire. I have spent the last couple of weeks trying to condition myself, my little girls, to be ready in spite of everyone's insistence that 'I DON'T WANT TO!'. It is not possible to bypass this day, this month, this memory. Simply not possible for this Being. I am sure others know how to numb, drug out, deny, 'forget' and 'go on' but/and not this Being. I cannot. And, I won't. I go into the keyhole, the rabbit hole, the vortex, surrounded by many images of Udegan, many lit candles, by my beloved Beetle and Myrrh, by photos of you, Phoenix, by altars, by the knowing of survival from the last three years of doing this exact same thing. I am alone, yes, there is no one to pass through for or with me. And, there is a larger container holding this passage as I go.
Beetle and I took a walk in the woods today and at one point I looked around through the trees and called out your name. I have many photos of you racing free through the trees or standing still so very much camoflaged by your surroundings. I imagined you were there watching Beetle and I walk and I just couldn't see you because you do such a good job of being undetected. Phoenix, I miss you. You have come to me in dreams periodically and I have been so very thankful and touched. May you have a bit of magic for us on this day, this evening? I hope so!
Soon after I imagined you in the trees around us today, I heard a snap of a branch and became on alert. Then the worst thing happened: a dog off leash charged Beetle and I. I kicked and yelled while his person tried to get a hold of him and for many minutes was unsuccessful. In the midst of the fray in keeping this dog away from us, Beetle bit my knee. Finally, the dog was apprehended. My body is sore and my little girls are so very distraught. Being bit by Beetle is painful on many levels. She is my beloved companion, my protector; I know she didn't mean to bite me, and my feelings feel so very hurt.
Interestingly, right before that happened, in between me imagining you in the trees and the dog charging us, I wondered aloud if it would be a good idea to get a puppy in hopes Beetle would help raise her, teach her how to be my companion, before she dies. I had some good sweet chuckles asking Beetle what she could teach this puppy. She said she could teach her how to protect me, how to let me rub her belly, how to lick the tears off my face, how to make me giddy, how to be in Circle, how to keep the cat away from me.... Then the snap of a branch and the charge and ensuing fighting off and knee bite. When Beetle and I walked away finally, I just sobbed realizing that the answer was obvious. No, I cannot have another puppy now. There's no way I could have handled things with two dogs. Plus, Beetle's aggression (while righteous in this situation) is not something I want to be taught as much as I love her and want her to be part of the passing on of a lineage of how to be my beloved companion. I feel so sad right now about that on this day, even though, as I have said over and over, I do not want Beetle to go. We have a sweet rhythm and Life together. Now, I am sure, however, it has to just be she and I.
What else to say to you, love, on this day as 6pm approaches...I ache of this loss, of all that was lost, all over my body. I have remembered you through your photos today your gleeful nature, your intensity, your protectiveness as my guardian companion, your sweetness and goofy antics, your ease in relaxing on whatever surface is available and your ability to move in and out of visibility. I am most struck by this, this year: your moving between foreground and background. I greet you, Phoenix, on this day that calls forth into the foreground our last day together four years ago and the first day of my life forever changed.
May we find one another between the worlds always, forever, infinitely. I will continue to look between the trees. Thank you for your devoted love.
Your beloved companion person,
Me
Right now, the light is changing in the sky and I feel my insides getting anxious, frantic and agitated, downright shaky, short of breath and scared. The time of your murder is approaching and even though I was not home when he killed you, my body has some knowing it was around 6:30 pm. This is the keyhole of the needle I must pass through all alone, to use Chris Williamson's words again. A keyhole like a rabbit hole into the trauma vortex that feel like swirling rapids, perilous and dire. I have spent the last couple of weeks trying to condition myself, my little girls, to be ready in spite of everyone's insistence that 'I DON'T WANT TO!'. It is not possible to bypass this day, this month, this memory. Simply not possible for this Being. I am sure others know how to numb, drug out, deny, 'forget' and 'go on' but/and not this Being. I cannot. And, I won't. I go into the keyhole, the rabbit hole, the vortex, surrounded by many images of Udegan, many lit candles, by my beloved Beetle and Myrrh, by photos of you, Phoenix, by altars, by the knowing of survival from the last three years of doing this exact same thing. I am alone, yes, there is no one to pass through for or with me. And, there is a larger container holding this passage as I go.
Beetle and I took a walk in the woods today and at one point I looked around through the trees and called out your name. I have many photos of you racing free through the trees or standing still so very much camoflaged by your surroundings. I imagined you were there watching Beetle and I walk and I just couldn't see you because you do such a good job of being undetected. Phoenix, I miss you. You have come to me in dreams periodically and I have been so very thankful and touched. May you have a bit of magic for us on this day, this evening? I hope so!
Soon after I imagined you in the trees around us today, I heard a snap of a branch and became on alert. Then the worst thing happened: a dog off leash charged Beetle and I. I kicked and yelled while his person tried to get a hold of him and for many minutes was unsuccessful. In the midst of the fray in keeping this dog away from us, Beetle bit my knee. Finally, the dog was apprehended. My body is sore and my little girls are so very distraught. Being bit by Beetle is painful on many levels. She is my beloved companion, my protector; I know she didn't mean to bite me, and my feelings feel so very hurt.
Interestingly, right before that happened, in between me imagining you in the trees and the dog charging us, I wondered aloud if it would be a good idea to get a puppy in hopes Beetle would help raise her, teach her how to be my companion, before she dies. I had some good sweet chuckles asking Beetle what she could teach this puppy. She said she could teach her how to protect me, how to let me rub her belly, how to lick the tears off my face, how to make me giddy, how to be in Circle, how to keep the cat away from me.... Then the snap of a branch and the charge and ensuing fighting off and knee bite. When Beetle and I walked away finally, I just sobbed realizing that the answer was obvious. No, I cannot have another puppy now. There's no way I could have handled things with two dogs. Plus, Beetle's aggression (while righteous in this situation) is not something I want to be taught as much as I love her and want her to be part of the passing on of a lineage of how to be my beloved companion. I feel so sad right now about that on this day, even though, as I have said over and over, I do not want Beetle to go. We have a sweet rhythm and Life together. Now, I am sure, however, it has to just be she and I.
What else to say to you, love, on this day as 6pm approaches...I ache of this loss, of all that was lost, all over my body. I have remembered you through your photos today your gleeful nature, your intensity, your protectiveness as my guardian companion, your sweetness and goofy antics, your ease in relaxing on whatever surface is available and your ability to move in and out of visibility. I am most struck by this, this year: your moving between foreground and background. I greet you, Phoenix, on this day that calls forth into the foreground our last day together four years ago and the first day of my life forever changed.
May we find one another between the worlds always, forever, infinitely. I will continue to look between the trees. Thank you for your devoted love.
Your beloved companion person,
Me
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Back on the bench, oppossum ghosting by
Dearest Phoenix of the WEb,
Funny how just anything can take me. Take me back. Maybe it is more like the thing awakens the me who is still there, who has always been there for three and a half years now. As the Autumn Equinox has passed, I find myself here, there, on that bench holding your broken body. I am wailing, wailing....turning over all of life to this death. Today as I walked through the woods with Beetle, crying, being on that bench, holding you in my lap, your life force draining onto my work pants, I reassured myself that I see me there, I recognize I have been there for three and a half years and if it's necessary I will be there another of the same. I didn't try and stop the tears, the deep grief, the remembering. I simply sat down there beside me. We wept together. I am still weeping, whether or not others see it.
Being just past the turn of the Wheel towards The Deep, I have been reflecting on the Outward Time with Demeter. How we have been together in new ways, how I woke up to Life and Living differently and decided to try and not be afraid of it. She taught me the incredible joy of planting and tending my garden, creating and fostering beauty around my home, my sanctuary, Her temple. And, here I am, just past the threshold of The Deep. It's not an easy turn around from the Outer to the Inner time, even for someone like me. I am feeling things differently this year, this turning. As I step through this long hallway, threshold, I greet The Deep and what I left here at Spring when I said Yes to Demeter. And, it's grief. Still grief. Still me on that bench. I am the bereft Demeter holding the beloved vacant body of her Persephone who has gone into the Underside of the Wheel, a shamanic Journey to the Grandmothers. I am Demeter pledging my life, what remains of it, to this holding, this death, this separation.
And, so, I walked today with Beetle, crying and sitting beside myself on that bench, and then I turn and say, "This story is not over, you know. This is the worst most excruciating part of it." We look up and an oppossum walks by, white and ghostlike. We can hardly believe she is so close; surely she hears us, this wailing. No, she keeps walking by, close by. I say, "There will be more to this story. There must be. Persephone is not gone forever. Demeter holds vigil, tends the broken, vacant body, wanders the land devastated, refusing life. One day, though, remember, one day when the timing comes, there is a Return. We cannot possibly know when that will be. Until then, I sit here with you. We will play dead in this life as long as necessary."
These last two weeks I've had an oppossum take up residence in my crawlspace. Finally, we trapped her and have relocated her to a wildlife reserve. I wonder if this creature has come to remind me, call me back to that bench and sit, hold, remind myself that the story of death is not over.
It feels better to write this. To you, beloved Phoenix. To you.
My total love,
Me
Funny how just anything can take me. Take me back. Maybe it is more like the thing awakens the me who is still there, who has always been there for three and a half years now. As the Autumn Equinox has passed, I find myself here, there, on that bench holding your broken body. I am wailing, wailing....turning over all of life to this death. Today as I walked through the woods with Beetle, crying, being on that bench, holding you in my lap, your life force draining onto my work pants, I reassured myself that I see me there, I recognize I have been there for three and a half years and if it's necessary I will be there another of the same. I didn't try and stop the tears, the deep grief, the remembering. I simply sat down there beside me. We wept together. I am still weeping, whether or not others see it.
Being just past the turn of the Wheel towards The Deep, I have been reflecting on the Outward Time with Demeter. How we have been together in new ways, how I woke up to Life and Living differently and decided to try and not be afraid of it. She taught me the incredible joy of planting and tending my garden, creating and fostering beauty around my home, my sanctuary, Her temple. And, here I am, just past the threshold of The Deep. It's not an easy turn around from the Outer to the Inner time, even for someone like me. I am feeling things differently this year, this turning. As I step through this long hallway, threshold, I greet The Deep and what I left here at Spring when I said Yes to Demeter. And, it's grief. Still grief. Still me on that bench. I am the bereft Demeter holding the beloved vacant body of her Persephone who has gone into the Underside of the Wheel, a shamanic Journey to the Grandmothers. I am Demeter pledging my life, what remains of it, to this holding, this death, this separation.
And, so, I walked today with Beetle, crying and sitting beside myself on that bench, and then I turn and say, "This story is not over, you know. This is the worst most excruciating part of it." We look up and an oppossum walks by, white and ghostlike. We can hardly believe she is so close; surely she hears us, this wailing. No, she keeps walking by, close by. I say, "There will be more to this story. There must be. Persephone is not gone forever. Demeter holds vigil, tends the broken, vacant body, wanders the land devastated, refusing life. One day, though, remember, one day when the timing comes, there is a Return. We cannot possibly know when that will be. Until then, I sit here with you. We will play dead in this life as long as necessary."
These last two weeks I've had an oppossum take up residence in my crawlspace. Finally, we trapped her and have relocated her to a wildlife reserve. I wonder if this creature has come to remind me, call me back to that bench and sit, hold, remind myself that the story of death is not over.
It feels better to write this. To you, beloved Phoenix. To you.
My total love,
Me
Thursday, August 15, 2013
More of Our Mystery...
Dearest Phoenix on the WEb,
The Labyrinth led me back to you, your bones, your physical remains. My hands and fingers searched for the violent metal that stole your life from me. I combed every inch of you, of what remains left in smooth, velvety grey matter and white bone. We employed a metal detector to find what my fingers and eyes could not see. No bullet. I was ripped open again...how could this possibly BE? No bullet??? Am I crazy? How can you be dead if there is no bullet? How can this be your body here with no bullet? I felt grabbed into another nightmare of the crazies. How can this be??? S. and I stayed with the Wu of it all. I asked her to scan my body with the detector...surely if it was not lodged in you, it must still be lodged in me! Nothing. No bullet.
For three days I left you uncovered, rattling and singing the trauma gone, released and free. For three days I was with you and myself and the Mystery of this Labyrinth, our Path together. And when it was time, S. and I began the process of covering you up again, but this time, this time, we did it in a way so that I could pilgrimage to you more readily. S. was deeply present and asked me every step of the way, how would this feel? and how would that feel? as we followed what would be Right. Ultimately, the biggest Wu happened.
I had precisely dug all around the bones, careful to expose all areas so that the trauma could be released. The shape of the hole ended up being kidney shaped. We agreed that the element of water would be a lovely conduit between Phoenix and I, so we decided a small pond would be good. We both looked at it and nodded, noting perhaps there was a pond liner that we might find in a similar shape. We'd just see, we agreed. So, as it turned out my work canceled itself for that evening unexpectedly and we both had time to go to the store and see what was available and what might be next. Sure enough, the store had one liner and it was kidney shaped!
Upon returned with the liner etc., I walked around the house out of sight for a moment to check on something. When I came back, S. was standing with her hands on her hips, a huge smile on her face and shaking her head in disbelief. "It fits perfectly." I dropped to the ground in awe. How could that be? Exactly? Exactly.
So, with a layer of dirt over the bones and some rocks around the edges, Phoenix rests beneath a small pond of water now, hyacinths blooming and a small pump circulating. And, a heron statue, of course. Hugging the pond, is a snake mound, modeled after one S. and I visited in Ohio years ago made by the first nation Peoples there.
How does one "explain" such a Mystery? The search for the missing bullet got me there, but it wasn't the reason. The freeing that happened was the reason, the freeing of all that was still lodged in those bones and in these bones. I will never know what happened to the bullet, literally. Metaphorically, energetically, I have sent it back to its Source. Where it belongs.
It is on this day, August 15, which on my personal Wheel of the Year is Companion Day, that I record something of this, our Mystery, here on our WEb. You will always be the Light of my Light, the spark that I seek. I miss you, my beloved Guardian Companion. I miss you. And, I do feel you closer, our connection dearer than ever. I do want you back and have begun to feel into that possibility for our family. Slow steps. Slow call.
Yours,
Me
The Labyrinth led me back to you, your bones, your physical remains. My hands and fingers searched for the violent metal that stole your life from me. I combed every inch of you, of what remains left in smooth, velvety grey matter and white bone. We employed a metal detector to find what my fingers and eyes could not see. No bullet. I was ripped open again...how could this possibly BE? No bullet??? Am I crazy? How can you be dead if there is no bullet? How can this be your body here with no bullet? I felt grabbed into another nightmare of the crazies. How can this be??? S. and I stayed with the Wu of it all. I asked her to scan my body with the detector...surely if it was not lodged in you, it must still be lodged in me! Nothing. No bullet.
For three days I left you uncovered, rattling and singing the trauma gone, released and free. For three days I was with you and myself and the Mystery of this Labyrinth, our Path together. And when it was time, S. and I began the process of covering you up again, but this time, this time, we did it in a way so that I could pilgrimage to you more readily. S. was deeply present and asked me every step of the way, how would this feel? and how would that feel? as we followed what would be Right. Ultimately, the biggest Wu happened.
I had precisely dug all around the bones, careful to expose all areas so that the trauma could be released. The shape of the hole ended up being kidney shaped. We agreed that the element of water would be a lovely conduit between Phoenix and I, so we decided a small pond would be good. We both looked at it and nodded, noting perhaps there was a pond liner that we might find in a similar shape. We'd just see, we agreed. So, as it turned out my work canceled itself for that evening unexpectedly and we both had time to go to the store and see what was available and what might be next. Sure enough, the store had one liner and it was kidney shaped!
Upon returned with the liner etc., I walked around the house out of sight for a moment to check on something. When I came back, S. was standing with her hands on her hips, a huge smile on her face and shaking her head in disbelief. "It fits perfectly." I dropped to the ground in awe. How could that be? Exactly? Exactly.
So, with a layer of dirt over the bones and some rocks around the edges, Phoenix rests beneath a small pond of water now, hyacinths blooming and a small pump circulating. And, a heron statue, of course. Hugging the pond, is a snake mound, modeled after one S. and I visited in Ohio years ago made by the first nation Peoples there.
How does one "explain" such a Mystery? The search for the missing bullet got me there, but it wasn't the reason. The freeing that happened was the reason, the freeing of all that was still lodged in those bones and in these bones. I will never know what happened to the bullet, literally. Metaphorically, energetically, I have sent it back to its Source. Where it belongs.
It is on this day, August 15, which on my personal Wheel of the Year is Companion Day, that I record something of this, our Mystery, here on our WEb. You will always be the Light of my Light, the spark that I seek. I miss you, my beloved Guardian Companion. I miss you. And, I do feel you closer, our connection dearer than ever. I do want you back and have begun to feel into that possibility for our family. Slow steps. Slow call.
Yours,
Me
Friday, August 2, 2013
Lammas
It is Lammas, a day of gratitude. We have been through so much these last couple of weeks; so much to honor and record here on this WEb. For now, though, I send out this exquisite image of a beautifully intact web that greeted me this morning on this Holy Day. I am forever grateful for the repair we have been weaving these many months, days, moment by moment.
There will be another day soon when I will detail the incredible details of the last few weeks of reconnecting with you, dear beloved Phoenix.
Yours,
Me
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
The Bullet: How Perfectly Obvious
Dearest Phoenix on the WEb,
This is so very much our Journey together right now, isn't it? I feel keenly guided by you to retrieve the bullet from your grave and send it back from whence it came. It does not belong to us, never did. How clear that was to suddenly Know what to do next for us, for our healing, for our letting go of anything else from that awful night that is causing us harm. How perfectly obvious.
So, S. (my trusted co-death priestess) and I uncovered you for the first time in three years yesterday. You led me to your head, your sweet sweet head. How stunning. My fingers passed through all the layers of grey. Oh, I just heard your song: I've been kissed by a rose on the grave....or is it grey? The ornamental rose bush that friends gifted me after you were killed has 'died' but right now, there by your grave is a single small bright red blossom. How you do this! This is your signal to me, isn't it? Roses blooming from seemingly dead bushes. Stunning.
We uncovered you mostly and I searched through your chest feeling for the bullet. The grey earth that was once you, is so very soft, fine like ash. My hands read through all of it around bones reaching, feeling, sifting. No bullet. Yet. Tomorrow S. is bringing a metal detector. We will find it. Do not doubt it. And, I will continue the healing work you have guided me to do with your bones, releasing any trauma still locked. That letting go of anything else from that awful night that is causing us harm. Yes, we are doing this together. I feel you so strongly, your guidance. How we have worked three years to be together doing this right now. How deeply moving this all is! I already feel how freer I feel in my body.
So, I am continuing to Listen to you, dear beloved guardian companion. It's been so unbelievably good to feel your physicality again. I cannot even say the levels in me that affects. I am happy to be connected to the physical of you again, even as different as you are. I feel happy to be doing this healing work, having this focus of reconnection and transformation. How perfectly obvious.
I adore you. Thank you for the dream guidance, for the digging guidance, for the timing guidance, for the perfectly obvious focus now: the bullet and the release of anything else from that awful night that is causing us harm.
Blessed blessed be, beloved one.
Yours,
Me
This is so very much our Journey together right now, isn't it? I feel keenly guided by you to retrieve the bullet from your grave and send it back from whence it came. It does not belong to us, never did. How clear that was to suddenly Know what to do next for us, for our healing, for our letting go of anything else from that awful night that is causing us harm. How perfectly obvious.
So, S. (my trusted co-death priestess) and I uncovered you for the first time in three years yesterday. You led me to your head, your sweet sweet head. How stunning. My fingers passed through all the layers of grey. Oh, I just heard your song: I've been kissed by a rose on the grave....or is it grey? The ornamental rose bush that friends gifted me after you were killed has 'died' but right now, there by your grave is a single small bright red blossom. How you do this! This is your signal to me, isn't it? Roses blooming from seemingly dead bushes. Stunning.
We uncovered you mostly and I searched through your chest feeling for the bullet. The grey earth that was once you, is so very soft, fine like ash. My hands read through all of it around bones reaching, feeling, sifting. No bullet. Yet. Tomorrow S. is bringing a metal detector. We will find it. Do not doubt it. And, I will continue the healing work you have guided me to do with your bones, releasing any trauma still locked. That letting go of anything else from that awful night that is causing us harm. Yes, we are doing this together. I feel you so strongly, your guidance. How we have worked three years to be together doing this right now. How deeply moving this all is! I already feel how freer I feel in my body.
So, I am continuing to Listen to you, dear beloved guardian companion. It's been so unbelievably good to feel your physicality again. I cannot even say the levels in me that affects. I am happy to be connected to the physical of you again, even as different as you are. I feel happy to be doing this healing work, having this focus of reconnection and transformation. How perfectly obvious.
I adore you. Thank you for the dream guidance, for the digging guidance, for the timing guidance, for the perfectly obvious focus now: the bullet and the release of anything else from that awful night that is causing us harm.
Blessed blessed be, beloved one.
Yours,
Me
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
The Missing Middle
Dearest Beloved Phoenix on the Web,
It is your birthday today. You are 13 years old. I cannot totally believe you are not with me; it just doesn't make any sense at all, really. I am doing a cleanse this week and began the process with a huge drop to the floor again when gunshots flooded through my window on Saturday afternoon. They were incessant for several hours and they took me back again to the moment when I found your body, lifeless. How can it be? That morning I said goodbye to you, patted your head, said I love you, be a good boy, Mama goes and Mama always comes back...and then the next time you are lifeless, gunshot wound through your left side. It's not that I don't understand cause and effect; it's something else, something else. The degree of sudden separation; some of me cannot compute it. And maybe there's something to not being there for the last breath, the holding, the soothing, whatever was needed...and of course for not being there to protect and prevent. The missing middle of this. Yes, the missing middle.
Oh, Phoenix, why else do I not let that night go? Everything else of our lives together was not filled with that level of sorrow. There's something about that night that I cannot let go of. The trauma of separation. The missing middle.
I can understand something of not wanting to forget; I do not want to forget that level of evil in the world and what it does and can do. How can I remember that and not let it lodge in me? Tis the question I grapple with: how to hang on and let go at the same time? I have been working with the Y as a symbol of that. Right now I am at the bifurcation point. It's not an intellectual solution to this; I don't need to just change my thinking as the New Age decrees. No, this needs to unravel from within me. And I need your help. I do not want to continue to hold on to something that harms me. I know there is no part of you and/or our relationship in that which harms me.
It seems that this cleanse is part of this process for me that is taking place both systemically and locally in my ovary and uterus. I ask for your continued guidance, presence and help. I need you. Happy Birthday, li'l boy.
I love you.
Me
It is your birthday today. You are 13 years old. I cannot totally believe you are not with me; it just doesn't make any sense at all, really. I am doing a cleanse this week and began the process with a huge drop to the floor again when gunshots flooded through my window on Saturday afternoon. They were incessant for several hours and they took me back again to the moment when I found your body, lifeless. How can it be? That morning I said goodbye to you, patted your head, said I love you, be a good boy, Mama goes and Mama always comes back...and then the next time you are lifeless, gunshot wound through your left side. It's not that I don't understand cause and effect; it's something else, something else. The degree of sudden separation; some of me cannot compute it. And maybe there's something to not being there for the last breath, the holding, the soothing, whatever was needed...and of course for not being there to protect and prevent. The missing middle of this. Yes, the missing middle.
Oh, Phoenix, why else do I not let that night go? Everything else of our lives together was not filled with that level of sorrow. There's something about that night that I cannot let go of. The trauma of separation. The missing middle.
I can understand something of not wanting to forget; I do not want to forget that level of evil in the world and what it does and can do. How can I remember that and not let it lodge in me? Tis the question I grapple with: how to hang on and let go at the same time? I have been working with the Y as a symbol of that. Right now I am at the bifurcation point. It's not an intellectual solution to this; I don't need to just change my thinking as the New Age decrees. No, this needs to unravel from within me. And I need your help. I do not want to continue to hold on to something that harms me. I know there is no part of you and/or our relationship in that which harms me.
It seems that this cleanse is part of this process for me that is taking place both systemically and locally in my ovary and uterus. I ask for your continued guidance, presence and help. I need you. Happy Birthday, li'l boy.
I love you.
Me
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