Thursday, November 29, 2018

The Spirit


Its an odd morning; odd because it is bitterly cold. The kind of cold that keeps me on the cusp of sleep and hesitant to move from the sunken, memory foam womb of my bed. Odd because I am up at 5am on my longest work day, when I go in early to see my indigo-girl, lost and lovely druidish veterinarian dreamer....delightful Ms. C. Odd because I usually don't feel good getting up on these days but today I do.

It's an odd morning because I feel hope. So long gone that the remembrance of it is startling for a moment, like tasting food after a long hunger. My stomach doesn't quite know what to do. I registered you in that hope, lifting and helping me get excited enough about this neat client to want to get up. Excited. I am finally learning that you really are helping me.

It started last week, on the heals of a hard and eerie Thanksgiving. I just endured it but then the next day I spent with my two sisters going to Austin. Phyllis, our ambassador of  being in the moment, and sweet and joyful Tansy. We were a ship of fools, but lovely, happy ones for a day. They replaced a 20 watt bulb in my darkened heart, at least for the day and you were there.....I felt it. Then yesterday I found myself excited at finding some cool presents online for Christmas for our family, for Chris, Sarah, Kenzie, Hudson and Chase. Online is a new thing for me. It was fun and easy and different. I felt you nudging me, like saying...."Do it's OK to do it differently".

Perhaps different is what I need? Perhaps Kenzie is right after all and this year it just needs to be different because what I wanted (all of us together in our living room) will never come again. Perhaps we all have to have the courage to pick ourselves up in this forced march and dare to believe there might be a new future waiting. Like the Jews who always wear their hats, just in case they have to leave at a moment's notice?

I resist  when people tell me "Ian is an Angel now, he's looking out for you." In fact, I hissed and spit venom at the very idea (until today). I fucking shallow to reduce this to a Hallmark moment? today I didn't resist the thought. Today I acquiesced and agreed that perhaps you are my guardian...of sorts.

As I blew dry my hair and got ready to leave so early,  I started to remember that you WERE Christmas Spirit to me. When no one else could get me there, you could. You have always been my carbonation, my electric fuel. Are you all schooled up with Angel know-how and wrapping your long and lovely arms around this family as we pack up our familiar lives and walk out our doors  and toward a new life with you?

Ian, you are the most powerful soul I ever knew. You ARE the wind and the sun.....the healing warmth, the storm....the weather....unpredictable, consuming, refreshing, terrible and beautiful. Maybe you have harnessed the power now and you are back to lift us all up and bind our wounds.

Are you all trained up and fully armed? Are you unleashing your love on us.....Arch Angels carry swords, but you were always more carbonation, microscopes, and lasers.....220 volts in a 110 world.

Or maybe you have learned to split (or fuse) the ephemeral atom? 

At any rate, you armed with love is a formidable thought, Biggun. I can envision you with your arms around all of us nudging us into a new life.... fist to the sky as you announce:

"Mom, love Hudson and go see new things......create..."

" and grow a fantastic, fun family...."

"Chris...invent, create...think....wonder....the answers are coming"

" Dad, heal your hate and sadness and find yourself again"

" And I will fuel you all....I will bring the Christmas spirit."

What a lovely present, baby boy. Good work Biggun. I want you to know I know....


Saturday, November 10, 2018


     Last night I dreamed of you.
You came to me full grown, strong, complete.
Exactly like you should have been
Exactly like I expected once
Exactly the man I saw glimmers of LAST November.

     Still  my Ian, with a deep yet boyish voice,
Curious, bursting with energy and love. 
Long, strong arms and legs, squeezed into my car
That familiar blue Polo shirt, turquoise really.
You smelled so good and clean, like clothes off the line.

   Like a dream I had of Jesus 20 years ago
When He came to me, smelling close-line clean 
and I received the Holy Spirit. 
You smelled just like that.

     You showed up so quiet and real 
That is was as if you were home for a visit 
You, home from school or work.
You as the man I knew was inside.
You  as you almost were.

     We hugged and hugged and hugged
You wouldn't let go, just like always.
So close behind me that I could not tell
Where I ended and you began.

     Driving around some strange town
Talking about memories and things we saw
Talking about where to go to lunch
Talking about a Mulberry tree and grape vines.

     Then Phoebe barked and woke me up
Reality came flooding in as I lay still as death,
And reminded me of this horrible year
And you became thin, clear, and disappeared
And I was alone again.

I didn't cry, I wished I could.