The Spirit

The Spirit

Ian,

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 Mom....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 say....how 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 charge....my 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 without 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, binoculars, and lasers.....220 volts in a 110 world.

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..."

"Kenzie...build 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....

Momma