i can't really say what happened or why (don't you hate that?) but it is still the most important news i have to report today. suffice it to say that my heart was broken* by someone who doesn't even know it**. good thing i'm used to that. one less thing to wonder about, one less hope to hang on to, one less star in the sky. maybe that will just make the others shine brighter and clearer. maybe.
some days, i really hate this world.
shame on me.
-s
*i guess i should be glad that there's still enough of it left whole that i could feel this way.
**bad for me, but good for them. accentuate the positive.
Saturday, May 17, 2003
Friday, May 16, 2003
I missed the beginning of the show last night, because it was raining, and the sky was a solid cloud. That was actually a gift from The Lady as well, though, because it seemed that the Universe needed me elsewhere for those first couple of hours.
A dear friend called me, “please come to a small graduation party”. I went at 8, two hours until the Moon really began to do Her thing – perfect. I told them I could not drink with them – last night did it for me for another year or so – hopefully. But I ended playing kickball in the yard with all of them (high school boys, football players, Blessed Be!) and my host’s PRECIOUS five-year-old brother until the light left us. MUCH more fun than drinking, I must say, and a MUCH more effective distraction.
After the game, the rain came the gents came inside. We ended up talking about life and God and sex and rap music, all the things that make the world go ‘round. And then it all got deeper, and they began to tell about their hurts, about the things that life handed them before they were old enough to know what to do. And I realized I was there for a reason. They felt free to tell all around me, maybe through me. Talk to each other about things they might NEVER mention to anyone else, and all I had to do was listen and accept. I didn’t have to say a word. In the end, they told themselves and each other that God didn’t hand them these things – life did. But God gave them the strength to get through it, and Adam said “As bad as it all was, the hate, the pain, the fear, if it hadn’t happened to me, I wouldn’t be who I am.”
And then, I went home, lit my candles, got some good food, read and snuggled with Lu until the rain stopped, and then went out to see what the Moon had to show me. I brought my quilt and pillow out and laid on the cool, wet grass. The eclipse was about halfway through and though half the sky was brilliant stars, where the Moon sat was thick with clouds. The clouds swept by quickly, though, and the eclipsing Moon was like the fanciest fan-dancer in the history of tease. One moment there would be luminous, roiling cloud, eerily lit with that strange light that only eclipse brings and then suddenly, a brilliant flash of near-full Moon, half dark. It had the feel of peek-a-boo with a child, but only if that child was Buddha ancient, tiger-bright and God. I drifted in and out of sleep – feeling safe in that strange dark because of my little moon, Luna there beside me. I thought of other moon-shows, moonshadows, remembered another eclipse, years ago, in my backyard back home with Cat purring on my chest… that night at Pablo’s farm… swimming alone in Lake Crawford, swimming in that full reflection… I remembered my father saying that I was moon-obsessed as a child. He said I knew the moon before I knew my parents names and faces**, and that he feared that I would be “moonstruck”* as an adult. I think he was right.
She did not disappoint me last night.
Wendi wrote, and it seems that she and I got treated to our first views at the same time. She was out on the road, driving under that lovely phenomenon. Heading south – the best direction.
I’d love it if any of you would write and tell me where you were, what you saw, what you dreamed.
Much love,
-s
*Moonstruck:
Adj.
1. in a daze: acting in a rather irrational, dreamy, confused way, often out of love (informal humorous)
2. wildly confused: behaving in a wild or confused way (dated literary)
[Late 17th century. The two senses of the word came from the romantic associations of moonlight and the popular belief that the Moon has an effect upon mental stability.]
**the prayer I’ve known the longest, even longer than “now I lay me down…”:
”I see the Moon, the Moon sees me. God bless the Moon, God bless me.”
A dear friend called me, “please come to a small graduation party”. I went at 8, two hours until the Moon really began to do Her thing – perfect. I told them I could not drink with them – last night did it for me for another year or so – hopefully. But I ended playing kickball in the yard with all of them (high school boys, football players, Blessed Be!) and my host’s PRECIOUS five-year-old brother until the light left us. MUCH more fun than drinking, I must say, and a MUCH more effective distraction.
After the game, the rain came the gents came inside. We ended up talking about life and God and sex and rap music, all the things that make the world go ‘round. And then it all got deeper, and they began to tell about their hurts, about the things that life handed them before they were old enough to know what to do. And I realized I was there for a reason. They felt free to tell all around me, maybe through me. Talk to each other about things they might NEVER mention to anyone else, and all I had to do was listen and accept. I didn’t have to say a word. In the end, they told themselves and each other that God didn’t hand them these things – life did. But God gave them the strength to get through it, and Adam said “As bad as it all was, the hate, the pain, the fear, if it hadn’t happened to me, I wouldn’t be who I am.”
And then, I went home, lit my candles, got some good food, read and snuggled with Lu until the rain stopped, and then went out to see what the Moon had to show me. I brought my quilt and pillow out and laid on the cool, wet grass. The eclipse was about halfway through and though half the sky was brilliant stars, where the Moon sat was thick with clouds. The clouds swept by quickly, though, and the eclipsing Moon was like the fanciest fan-dancer in the history of tease. One moment there would be luminous, roiling cloud, eerily lit with that strange light that only eclipse brings and then suddenly, a brilliant flash of near-full Moon, half dark. It had the feel of peek-a-boo with a child, but only if that child was Buddha ancient, tiger-bright and God. I drifted in and out of sleep – feeling safe in that strange dark because of my little moon, Luna there beside me. I thought of other moon-shows, moonshadows, remembered another eclipse, years ago, in my backyard back home with Cat purring on my chest… that night at Pablo’s farm… swimming alone in Lake Crawford, swimming in that full reflection… I remembered my father saying that I was moon-obsessed as a child. He said I knew the moon before I knew my parents names and faces**, and that he feared that I would be “moonstruck”* as an adult. I think he was right.
She did not disappoint me last night.
Wendi wrote, and it seems that she and I got treated to our first views at the same time. She was out on the road, driving under that lovely phenomenon. Heading south – the best direction.
I’d love it if any of you would write and tell me where you were, what you saw, what you dreamed.
Much love,
-s
*Moonstruck:
Adj.
1. in a daze: acting in a rather irrational, dreamy, confused way, often out of love (informal humorous)
2. wildly confused: behaving in a wild or confused way (dated literary)
[Late 17th century. The two senses of the word came from the romantic associations of moonlight and the popular belief that the Moon has an effect upon mental stability.]
**the prayer I’ve known the longest, even longer than “now I lay me down…”:
”I see the Moon, the Moon sees me. God bless the Moon, God bless me.”
Thursday, May 15, 2003
well, for all my big talk, yesterday - last night - was still pretty damned bad. i drank a lot last night. i called an ex, and luckily it was the right one, someone who was there with me through the first of this bad time. he was sympathetic, he remembered with me - some good things out loud, some bad things in silence. and we made each other laugh. (thank you, jah. we are bound by more than ink and memories of swimming.)
i worked, i wandered around the house looking at her pictures and crying. i was mad, i cried, i wished death and hell on the "people" who did this... i FINALLY fell asleep after writing a silly drunken missive to james and trying to read some pratchett... and when i woke up i thought: "i made it through this night. she didn't."
i am coming to terms with the fact that it will never go away. not until my memory or my life is lost. some things you CAN let go, some things, you can't. the next week will be rough, but the worst is over. memory can reclaim the place where my imagination was trying to roam last night. thank god. i just have to be grateful for the fact that it's only this bad a few days a year, that it hasn't stolen my whole life, driven me crazy or helpless. that i have the strength to get through it. let go? no. go on? yes. that's something. that's a LOT actually.
tonight i am going to watch the eclipse with my best friend, love of my life, moon-doggy herself and try to think of good times. think me good thoughts, i will do the same for you.
much love,
-s
i worked, i wandered around the house looking at her pictures and crying. i was mad, i cried, i wished death and hell on the "people" who did this... i FINALLY fell asleep after writing a silly drunken missive to james and trying to read some pratchett... and when i woke up i thought: "i made it through this night. she didn't."
i am coming to terms with the fact that it will never go away. not until my memory or my life is lost. some things you CAN let go, some things, you can't. the next week will be rough, but the worst is over. memory can reclaim the place where my imagination was trying to roam last night. thank god. i just have to be grateful for the fact that it's only this bad a few days a year, that it hasn't stolen my whole life, driven me crazy or helpless. that i have the strength to get through it. let go? no. go on? yes. that's something. that's a LOT actually.
tonight i am going to watch the eclipse with my best friend, love of my life, moon-doggy herself and try to think of good times. think me good thoughts, i will do the same for you.
much love,
-s
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
these days are like ghosts, but at least they get thinner and paler with each passing year.
i try not to dwell, not to think about what these days mean in the whole scheme of things, but my memory* brings me back to those days with painful clarity. the memories are odd and queasy, because so much of that week was a soggy, drugged-up sick haze. i had vertigo the worst i've ever had it, i think from crying so much. i was on antivert and sedatives, and i remember people - mainly steve - steering me around like a little black cloud on a string. i slept with a damp towel and wouldn't take off dad's shirt - they ended up buying me a new one that resembled it to wear to the funeral so i would at least be clean.
the worst is when i look at the clock and i remember specific events that happened at those times. on may 13, i was still just miserable, missing my dad, oblivious to the fact that the worst was to come. aunt sue's phone call, police questions, dragging the river, and all that just the very beginning of the awful all of it.
one more week or so to go, and i'll be through it. i lay in bed last night and looked at the pictures of her on my wall. thought of the ones on the mantle, in my albums. i thought of how old she would be, what her life might be like. and i thought of the people who murdered her claiming and appealing because they've been "treated unfairly". i wish i could let go of my anger there. it might be the last tie to the ghosts. they should be dead, painfully, tortured, like she was, and she should be alive.
there's no sense in "if" and "should" here, not really - unless those murderers ever manage to get set free...
i know, i know, shut up already sam. but even those of you who are close to me don't know what i go through, what these ghosts do to me, all the billions of thoughts that spin off of days on the calendar and hours on the clock. the pain gets better, but the thoughts multiply.
thank y'all for going through this with me, year after year. it helps.
love,
sam
*highly doubted and disputed by those who don't want me to remember, celebrated for it's eerie accuracy by those who know me well and have nothing to lose
i try not to dwell, not to think about what these days mean in the whole scheme of things, but my memory* brings me back to those days with painful clarity. the memories are odd and queasy, because so much of that week was a soggy, drugged-up sick haze. i had vertigo the worst i've ever had it, i think from crying so much. i was on antivert and sedatives, and i remember people - mainly steve - steering me around like a little black cloud on a string. i slept with a damp towel and wouldn't take off dad's shirt - they ended up buying me a new one that resembled it to wear to the funeral so i would at least be clean.
the worst is when i look at the clock and i remember specific events that happened at those times. on may 13, i was still just miserable, missing my dad, oblivious to the fact that the worst was to come. aunt sue's phone call, police questions, dragging the river, and all that just the very beginning of the awful all of it.
one more week or so to go, and i'll be through it. i lay in bed last night and looked at the pictures of her on my wall. thought of the ones on the mantle, in my albums. i thought of how old she would be, what her life might be like. and i thought of the people who murdered her claiming and appealing because they've been "treated unfairly". i wish i could let go of my anger there. it might be the last tie to the ghosts. they should be dead, painfully, tortured, like she was, and she should be alive.
there's no sense in "if" and "should" here, not really - unless those murderers ever manage to get set free...
i know, i know, shut up already sam. but even those of you who are close to me don't know what i go through, what these ghosts do to me, all the billions of thoughts that spin off of days on the calendar and hours on the clock. the pain gets better, but the thoughts multiply.
thank y'all for going through this with me, year after year. it helps.
love,
sam
*highly doubted and disputed by those who don't want me to remember, celebrated for it's eerie accuracy by those who know me well and have nothing to lose
