Take a Sad Song and Make it Better

Beatles Philosophy Again...


Today I heard "Hey Jude" on the radio and realized, as I seem to do so often with songs now, that the meaning has changed. But the message fits.  I've been trying to find a way to put all of this in perspective, but there is no view that will ever make this right. You tried every thing you could to fix your pain, to help heal your wounds. You asked for help, you worked hard when it was offered. You also covered your pain with your humor. But we could see through much of it. I so wanted to believe that you really were happier and doing better that spring. You started wearing beautiful bright colors, you cooked amazing meals, you started writing again. I just wanted to believe you were healing in some measure and I think you wanted me to believe it as well. What changed? What happened? I know the physical pain was unbearable. I could see it in your face, in your eyes. I heard it in the moans while you tried to sleep. I felt it when you fell and I lay down on the floor next to you and we cried. When the wounds became too deep and no healing seemed in sight, you chose not to live in the pain. What courage that took and yet, even then, you choose to leave us with messages of love. What strength that must have taken when you were so alone. I hope our love for you was there as was your love for us.
And I know we all tried to help, and yet, we failed you. But I now realize in order to move forward, to survive, to celebrate you, we can't live in this state of guilt anymore. We all said we would take on your pain if we could relieve you of it, but I don't think think this pain is what you thought we were praying for. You know we all loved and still love and always will love you. And in order to honor you, to celebrate you, to be able to share our deep, never ending love for you, we have to let go of the what ifs. We have to stop trying to right what was wrong because it can never be now. We can't change any of it anymore, no matter how much we ache to do so. We have to own the pain you suffered and just accept that you are no longer suffering. We know your spirit was broken here in this life. But I feel your spirit with me every minute so I know that you have moved on. And now so will we, with you by our side. There has to be something bigger that this because I want you to be free again, I want it to "be easy to be you" again. When I heard this song, I thought of the boys "carrying the world on their shoulders" and it seemed clear that this is what we have to do...go out and get you, let you under our skin, just as we did when you were alive. Then maybe,  just maybe, we can start to make it a little better. It may seem too simple, this Beatles philosophy I've embraced, but I just know we all have to start letting go of the guilt, the regrets, the mistakes that we can't change, now or ever. I want all of us to celebrate you, your spirit, your courage, your great generosity, your sarcasm, your humor, your stubbornness, your unending love. I want us to let you into our hearts with full understanding and accepting so we can start to make it better. 




Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

Hey Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Na na na, na na, na na na na

Hey Jude, don't let me down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And don't you know that it's just you? Hey Jude, you'll do
The movement you need is on your shoulder
Na na na, na na, na na na na, yeah

Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better
Better, better, better, better, better, oh!





The Beatles Live "Hey Jude"

Tears in Heaven

I thought the only thing Eric Clapton and I had in common was the belief that Layla is the best song ever written and performed. Now we belong to a club no one should have membership in, ever. I'm sorry, Eric. I'm sorry, Snoozie.

Unplugged/Eric Clapton Live

My "Witched" Witch

I realized today why we have all been so sad this week. Halloween was your favorite holiday, of course. I think I was just wanting to get through it again this year. But another "upside the head" moment from you made me realize I should enjoy it, for your sake. Usually it is a crazy day at school that leaves us exhausted, but feeling good. Today was no exception. The children were great and so cute in their costumes! We had fall centers and they were well organized and run smoothly by wonderful, amazing parents, many of whom dressed up themselves. Adorable!
Chana got Charlie Brown T-shirts for us to wear as our costumes, so I felt Grandma Judy with me before school even began. And of course I heard her CCR "Bad Moon Arising" on the way to school. And then, bam, a Kennasent moment! Sitting right in the middle of the floor was a little Strawberry Shortcake girl! And then another... Next to them, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. And then, a Superman! So all three of you were represented in what seems to be a resurgence of those characters. So I just let it be.
Thanks for showing me that it can still be a memorable day. I will celebrate (and maybe even decorate) next year in your honor, my little "witched witch".. Happy Halloween, wherever you are, dressing up all the cats we've been sending into your care, whether they want it or not.

She

When I first heard this song by Elvis Costello in the movie "Notting Hill", I remembered all of the words immediately. I knew I had heard it before by someone else. Then I remembered it was from a record my mom played in the 60's by a French artist named Charles Aznavour. It turns out he wrote the beautiful lyrics. I chose this song for your celebration because it always reminded me of you...and every day, even more so.

She 
May be the face I can't forget 
The trace of pleasure or regret 
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay 
She 
May be the song that summer sings 
May be the chill that autumn brings 
May be a hundred different things 
Within the measure of a day

She 
May be the beauty or the beast 
May be the famine or the feast 
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell 
She may be the mirror of my dreams 
The smile reflected in a stream 
She may not be what she may seem 
Inside her shell 

She 
Who always seems so happy in a crowd 
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud 
No one's allowed to see them when they cry 
She 
May be the love that cannot hope to last 
May come to me from shadows of the past 
That I'll remember till the day I die 

She 
May be the reason I survive 
The why and wherefore I'm alive 
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years 
Me 
I'll take her laughter and her tears 
And make them all my souvenirs 
For where she goes I've got to be 
The meaning of my life is 

She
She, oh she

Charles Aznavour in English
Charles Aznavour in French

Elvis Costello's version

Best Friends!

Today is Alisa's birthday. I found this picture of the two of you on her site. I wasn't expecting to find it and had never seen it before, so it knocked me for a loop. How many other pictures of you are out there that I will never see unless I stumble upon them? That's the tooth-gapped grin I picture without hesitation. How sweet, innocent and happy you both were. Best friends! Happy Birthday, Alisa!

Don't Sing of Death When You Ain't Been There

Such a overly played song, such a popular tune, such provocative lyrics... and I want to scream at the young woman singing them! So here they are (short version), followed by my revision...

"If I Die Young"
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song,
Uh oh, uh oh.
Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time...
-----------------------------------------------------------------
My Turn
Don't sing of death
laying down in roses
with a voice never touched by pain.
Please don't ask me to listen to your story of the rainbow
when you haven't seen the rain.
Don't sing about dying when death hasn't yet come
ask it only of your loved ones when your day is truly done.
Oh no, oh no...
I listened to her tears,
I felt her aching pain
I knew her broken spirit
like the rainbow knows the rain.
We read her letters
that she took the time to pen,
knowing it would be the last of her words
we would ever hear again.
We honored her wishes
when we scattered her ashes
near the old tree overlooking the lake
where she longed to be for eternity.
Her final resting place,
not asked for in a song
before her life was over,
only after she was gone.
So don't ask to lay in a bed of roses
when you don't have the right,
If no one's listening,
yell, scream, and holler
don't wait until you're gone
because the words won't matter...
No one has just enough time....
Oh no, oh no.

Bambi Lynn Rake Tidwell

Unplugged

When Kenton was born and you were the first to hold him, you said it was the only time in your life that you laughed and cried at the same time. (You were 5!) Now I find myself doing the same. When friends remind me of something you did or said, I laugh, then I cry. When I am alone, I cry then I remember your antics, then I laugh. I keep finding what I call Tidbits of you everywhere. The latest? Your "Fire List" for your little 2 room cabin in June Lake. You always had your priorities... And so it goes...Laughing and crying....As my Grandma and Grandpa would have said, "God love her!"

Waltzing with Kenna

Yesterday I went out to water the yard and there was a white butterfly, fluttering slowly about the grounds. I followed for several minutes and then just stood in the driveway, warmed by the sun, watching the beautiful white wings disappear over the fence, happy to have waltzed with you if even for a moment. When you were gone, I turned around and Kenton was standing in the walkway. "Did you see her?" I asked him. "Yes" he said with a smile just for you and me.


Butterfly Waltz - Piano

Another version - Beautiful Violin!

The Way You Look Tonight

You heard him on the radio and said you liked his voice. Then you saw how cute he was so I planned to take you to the Michael Buble' concert. I hoped he would sing "The Way You Look Tonight". At Kameron and KC's wedding, I found myself singing it in my head while you were getting ready. Now I sing it in my heart when I look at the picture that you actually posed for and let me take! You made the stanza "Lovely... never, ever change" real, but not in the way I imagined. And we didn't make the concert, did we? I'm sorry.

Some day, when I’m awfully low,
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight.

You’re lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft,
There is nothing for me but to love you,
And the way you look tonight.

With each word your tenderness grows,
Tearing my fear apart...
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,
It touches my foolish heart.

Lovely ... never, ever change.
Keep that breathless charm.
Won’t you please arrange it?
’cause I love you ... just the way you look tonight.

With each word your tenderness grows,
Tearing my fear apart...
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,
It touches my foolish heart.

Lovely ... never, ever change.
Keep that breathless charm.
Won’t you please arrange it?
’cause I love you ... just the way you look tonight.

Out of My Dreams

OMG! Thought you'd LOL at that...
I was sound asleep when I heard "Mom! Bambi!" I looked around and of course, no one was here except me and Lil Bear.
So I began channel surfing and the movie version of Rogers and Hammerstein's Oklahoma was on. Really? It had started at 12:30 and it was already 1:45. I wondered if the dream sequence I always believed was in it really was, but I really didn't want to watch the whole movie. I selected it anyway and Shirley Jones was just singing the line, "Then out of my dreams I'll go, into a dream with you" when the ballerina came in for the dream sequence. Sometimes a movie is just a movie but it seems as if I read something into everything lately. The whole beginning appeared to be a metaphor for my life, a dream life that was expected, that should be. It quickly turned into the nightmare part of the dream and, honestly, one of the worst choreographed interpretations ever (given the expert on dance that I am...). But still, my life, your life, our lives.
I've wanted to see it for some time and thought about it last night when I was thinking of names and how they are chosen. Was it you that yelled my name to awaken me? "Out of my dreams and into..."
I don't know if this is true, but I remember my mother telling me she wanted to name her children after the Peter Pan characters, hence Michael and John (Pat) and I was to be, wait for it...Wendy. But before I was born, she saw a ballet where the prima ballerina was named Bambi Lynn. So Bambi Lynn I became. As for Andy, I guess she skipped the fairy tale names and opted for a more presidential name. Otherwise he might have been Tinkerbell!
I hope it was you who yelled. You can yell at me anytime. I even miss that.
Shirley Jones looked very much like my mother at that age. And the ballerina? She looked like you...

Out of My Dreams-Bambi Lynn

Another of my favorite Shirley Jones songs

The Beatles version with the intro (and subtitles) "Sarw/saw" 

Follow Your Bliss

Kenton and I had a heated discussion this morning following my mere suggestion that he post his music on You Tube. I'm sure you could imagine the conversation that followed, suffice to say his passion about his art came through loud and clear. And once again I tried to say that we are entitled to our own thoughts and ideas and opinions. Thoughts and ideas are so personal and often stubbornly unchangeable, but opinions, not so much if you have any intelligence at all. And because he was so adamant about why he wouldn't "you tube", my opinion about that part of it changed. I mentioned the 11 year old who posted his music for family and friends and now has a recording contract. Your brother's head almost exploded. (Good thing I didn't mention The Black Eyed Peas. Remember how you went off on me for liking those "sell-outs"?) And I had the very clear thought that this was one of those times he should have been able to call you and commiserate about your crazy mama and my heart ached for both of you that that is gone.
But I am glad he has such convictions about his gift and that we can shout about it. You were as passionate about your writing. From the time you could write in school, you would not let us help you with any assignment (in any curriculum area for that matter), and you were adamant about that! When you turned in a report on a California mission, your fourth grade teacher called us and said that the writing was too sophisticated for a student in her class. Perhaps she forgot that the Rapid Learner class had a basis to it's founding, like "gifted". Regardless, your dad took the call and said he hadn't seen the report as you wouldn't let us ever proofread your work because you didn't want us to correct it and make it ours. Smart girl! The teacher said she would send it back so you could redo it in a fourth grader style of writing and then she would rescore it. When we read it with you, we could see how crushed you were, but the real Kenna showed through in your deep indignation. Your dad did something that I, as a fellow teacher, might not have done, but I still applaud him to this day for having done so. He calmly told you to take a bath, get ready for bed and he would take care of it.
Then he proceeded to redo your report that you had saved on the computer. His goal was to redo your report in the style of a typical fourth grader. His only experience with this age was obviously you and Kameron, so his "typical" was quite skewed. I smiled as he struggled to rewrite your words and "dummy down" without using his hundred dollar words. Believe me, that was a challenge for him! He stayed up all night, writing, rewriting but trying to keep your voice. At one point, he asked if he should really do this and what lesson could he be teaching you.
The next morning he told you he had just fixed a few things and we would see what happened. You didn't question it but you were still hurt by the teacher's disbelief that you could have written such a good piece without plagiarising (which you did not do, ever).
The next day, you brought home the report, head down, and silently handed it to me. The comments in red on the cover said "GREAT JOB! This is more like it. I knew you could do it, Kenna!"
And then I questioned what lesson that teacher had taught you.
I couldn't live with it so we met with your principal. We gave him fresh copies of both reports and asked him to read them and tell us which one you had written. He knew full well your gift in writing and said that both were good (your dad was oddly relieved), but he could easily identify yours. Then we explained what happened.
Our goal was not to embarrass the teacher nor teach you that cheating was a good response, but we did not want you to ever compromise your ideals. We had allowed that once with Kameron and his teacher and never forgave ourselves. Remember his beautiful blond, curly hair? He got a haircut one day and the young woman talked him into leaving a short 1 inch "tail", the style at the time. It was just a small curl at the nap of the neck, hardly noticeable, but he was pleased.
He came home from school the next day and asked us to cut it off. When we asked if his friends liked it, he said they all did. It finally came out that his teacher asked whose idea was it, his mother's or his father's. That was all she said but the way she said it delivered her message loud and clear to this 8 year old and he did not want to have her disapprove of him in any way. He actually felt shame while we felt fury! We tried to talk him out of cutting it and staying true to his beliefs, but there was no convincing him. And in the end, we all compromised to allow him to let go of the feeling of any further ridicule to come and cut off the tail. It still makes me cry now, 25 years later. Kameron, of course, in his pragmatic way, would tell me it's not worth feeling sad about. Can't you just hear him?
These two instances actually made me a better teacher and person on several levels. I look for the gifts in all children and get to know them as well as possible, as quickly as possible. And no matter what I think of someone's hair or clothing, I always frame comments in the positive. (Ignoring it can hurt as much as disapproval). Who are we to pass on negative personal opinions to children who just need us to like them?
What I learned early on is that my own children are entitled to be passionate and I am so grateful that I am allowed to be a part of that journey. I know you all gagged when I gave you each a little sign in your Christmas stockings that said "Follow your Bliss" but I have the right to be as passionate about that as you all are about your ideals. And isn't the word bliss a good one to have in your heart?
And did you not follow your bliss in your poems and stories and Saturday Night Live skits? Someday I might share your writings but I'll wait for a sign from you. If it's what you want, I know you'll smack me upside the head with it when the time is right. Sadly, I have nothing but time now. I miss your tenacity and your spirit and your uncompromising view of the world. It kept me grounded at times when I wanted to float away in Bambiland. Where's my anchor now? I guess it's in the white butterflies and the silence at night when I listen for you under your stars...and in our boys.

Enough Said

To my boys, my reason for being...

 

 
If not for you,
Babe, I couldn’t even find the door,
I couldn’t even see the floor,
I’d be sad and blue, if not for you.

If not for you,
Babe, the night would see me wide awake,
the day would surely have to break,
it would not be new, if not for you.

If not for you, my sky would fall,
rain would gather, too,
without your love I'd be nowhere at all,
I’d be lost, if not for you.

If not for you,
the winter would hold no spring,
couldn’t hear a robin sing,
I just wouldn’t have a clue, if not for you.

If not for you, my sky would fall,
rain would gather, too,
without your love I’d be nowhere at all,
I’d be lost, if not for you.

If not for you,
the winter would hold no spring,
couldn’t hear a robin sing,
I just wouldn’t have a clue, if not for you.

If not for you…

Dylan 1970

Many versions of this song, but this has Harrison and Dylan!

A Morning of Mourning

Today is the 10th Anniversary of 9/11. It is a day of remembrances and tributes. The speeches are touching, the songs beautiful, the poems remarkable. You once asked that we share the lines you chose from this by Longfellow...the perfect poem..
 

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain and the mist,

And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me

That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life's endless toil and endeavor;

And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,

Whose songs gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from the eyelids start;

Then read from the treasured volume

The poem of thy choice,

And lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of thy voice.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Grandparents

I composed a blog entry in a magazine recently. When I reread it today, I realized not only how important Pam is to me, but how much I love her for how important she was to you. She and Grandpa were your best friends. I often thought about how happy I was that you were so near them and able to spend time with them. When your Grandma Madge passed, you were heartbroken because she was your best friend at that time. She died shortly after your assault and there was no space for grieving for any of us and I am still sad and sorry about that. When you moved to Mammoth, I missed your belly laugh and worried constantly about you, but I was happy that Dad and Pam got to know you like we did, your sardonic humor, your wit, your incredible intelligence, your ability to put people in their place while they thought they were receiving a compliment. Your laughter filled any room you entered, your generosity was quietly demonstrated on so many occasions. I am forever grateful they were able to know you and love you so deeply. How lovely the relationship of granddaughters and grandmothers and grandfathers! The following 300 word blog was written July, 2011:

“She’s not much older than me” I whined when my father told us of his upcoming marriage. Visions of the evil stepmother from the fairy tales I’d grown up with loomed large in my head.

“Maybe you’ll become friends one day,” he said hopefully.

“Never!” my seventeen-year-old mind shouted.

Even though I had reconciled my parent’s divorce after twenty years and four children, my allegiance was to my mother. My way of showing loyalty to her was a promise not to send Mother’s Day cards to “that” woman.

  But of course, years passed, we all matured and our families grew. My father was happy and healthy, and married to his best friend.

  She would never give birth, so it seemed fitting to ask her to be there when we had our first child. Afterward, she wrote the most beautiful letter I’ve ever received. It was gracious and heartfelt as she thanked us for allowing her to be part of something so special. It was then that I realized how much I had grown to love her.

  Thirty years later, just days before my mother passed from cancer, she whispered to me that I could send Mother’s Day cards to my stepmother now. “You know, honey, she’s been very good to all of you.” Guilt joined hands with my grief.

  And as far as the fairy tale goes, the stepmother actually became the Cinderella in our story. She emerged as the intelligent, funny, independent, beautiful woman with her prince.

  My brothers and I may not be her children, but we are her family. Our children are her grandchildren and their children are her great-grandchildren.

What started as a predictable fairy tale became one of my most cherished happily ever after endings because she became my friend.

You and Your Grandpa!

Two of my favorite pictures of you and Kenton because your face tells the whole story. The infamous beanbag at Grandma and Grandpa Rake's house.You questioning your Grandpa's intentions, something that never changed...

"Are you really gonna let him drink that, Grandpa?"

My Butterfly Tattoo

Tattoo #3 on my wrist like your stars!

 

Butterfly

Does the white butterfly symbolize a soul,

your angel watching over you,

so close you could touch it?

I want to believe it is true.

Maybe it is just a white butterfly

winging through our sky,

but I want to believe it is you,

I whisper with a sigh.

Sometimes a butterfly represents no more

than the beauty of it’s flight,

or the journey it is taking,

from sunrise to twilight.

Since you’ve been gone,

we all see them, although rare,

and we want to believe it is

your way to show you care.

But, you would never arrive so quietly,

like a whisper on a breeze,

for you, my darling daughter,

did little with such ease!

You arrive with “in your face!”

that’s how we know you’re here,

we’ve all had a dose of that,

and it’s not a whisper in our ear!

Your actions shout,

 “Pay attention, I am here!”

and forces us to believe,

you will always be near.

I believe,

Mama

August 11, 2011

This is when I became a Goldie Hawn fan for life!

Think of Me

How happy you all made each other! Kenton and Tino, Kenna and Mina, KC and Calvin

I made a list of the movies I have seen more that 5 times. It was as eclectic as yours, starting with Dirty Harry, The Godfather I and II and ending with The Phantom of the Opera and Sense and Sensibility. Go figure! So many songs have different meaning now. Ones that were beautiful just in their setting can now bring me to tears for deeper reasons. I loved the song "Think of Me" from Phantom, but today when I watched the movie (again!), the lyrics seemed different. They aren't, we just are. Today Kameron and KC had to let Tino go and I just keep thinking, when will all this sadness end? In a little over  year we lost first our Dawna; your Baby Kitty; you, our precious girl; Rascal; Kameron's Jon Coppersmith and now Tino. Too much loss, too much pain. But we think of you, always.

Think of me, think of me fondly
when we've said goodbye.
Remember once in awhile,
please, promise me you'll try.

When you find, that once again,
you long to take your heart back and be free,
if you ever find a moment,
spare a thought for me.

We never said our love was evergreen,
or as unchanging as the sea,
but if you can still remember,
stop and think of me.

Think of all the things
we've shared and seen,
don't think about the way things
might have been.

Think of me,
think of me waking,
silent and resigned.
Imagine me, trying too hard
to put you from my mind.

Recall those days,
look back on all those times,
think of the things we'll never do,
there will never be a day when
I won't think of you.

Flowers fade,
the fruits of summer fade,
they have their seasons, so do we,
but, please promise me, that sometimes
you will think of me.

Andrew Lloyd Webber

Our Dawna and Knana! Look how much Kenna loved her. Sweet.


Emma Rossen from "The Phantom of the Opera" Movie (Stars in her hair) 

Snow Angel

                                                             Snow Angel by Tori Amos

Your Aunt Jill, Uncle Mike and Cousin Shannon visited your tree after the snowfall. They made this beautiful angel for you. They love you and miss you. Who's going to give them a bad time when they go to June Lake?

Unsinkable

Mom took this to submit for a writing contest and no, I didn't know Dennis the Menace was in the shot!

When I was 12, my parents gave me a beautiful, powder blue stereo (BIG deal at the time!). I was the envy of the neighborhood! It had removable speakers! Although Beatlemania was growing faster than my brother Mike's hair, they gave me two other popular albums, one by The Beach Boys and the other by the King, Elvis. I loved them and played them over and over (and over and over). The best feature on the record player was when you lifted the arm, it would just replay the records over and over (and over and over). Not so popular with the folks, however, especially when I played The Eve of Destruction until I wore it out.  So they gave me a gift certificate to purchase additional records. Did I go for the number one record, the smash hit, the Top 40? No. I bought the soundtrack to The Unsinkable Molly Brown.
On my 13th birthday, Mom drew a special birthday card for me with her take on an old joke.  It showed me knee deep shoveling a pile of manure while my family stood by and watched. The speech bubble over my mom's head read, "What are you doing, Bambi?" "Well", my speech bubble proclaimed, "with all this shit, there must be a pony in here somewhere!" .
Once, when something bad had happened, (I don't even recall what it was, so there you are, get over-able!), I was struggling to show how it wasn't so bad. Your dad finally said, "Honey, there is no silver lining here, no matter how badly you want it."
I still want to believe in being unsinkable, I want Pollyanna to live on, I want acts of kindness not to be so random, I want somewhere over the rainbow to be true, I want the little white butterflies to really be you fluttering by, I want the star that shines so bright to be your nightly message...

Trailer for The Unsinkable Molly Brown 1964

Speaking Words of Wisdom, Let It Be

I haven't examined my beliefs in a very long time. I know I always believed in karma. (I can hear you sighing, "You hippie!")
The official definition of karma is

- The sum of a person's actions in this and previous states of existence, viewed as deciding their fate in future existences.

- Destiny or fate, following as effect from cause.

A few weeks before you were born, I was standing in the teacher's lounge, slowly swaying and patting the bottom of the stack of books I was holding. "Getting ready for another one?" one of my colleagues asked. I hadn't realized I was "smiling and rocking the baby", so to speak. Then he said, "Wow, you must have done some great things in your past lives. You have your beautiful son, another baby on the way, your dream job, your own business with your husband and you are building your own log home!" It didn't dawn on me that life should be any different than this. "Well, isn't that how life is supposed to be? Karma?" I answered.  Now I question Karma because if your previous actions dictate your present, then what explains what happened to you, to us, to this life? And where is the Karma for the evil ones? You did nothing to deserve what happened, in this life or previously, and that I know for sure. Everything else that happened to our family, to our lives are all what I thought of as "get over-ables". This never will be, will it? So I think I'll go with your dad's bumper sticker that said "My Karma Ate Your Dogma" It seems to make as much sense as anything I can come up with on these lonely nights when I am missing you so much I cannot breathe.
I realized when I was talking to Kenton this week about my personal philosophies, many of my beliefs come from Beatle's lyrics. And why not? Genius is genius in any form and the wisdom of their words have always been with me. Let It Be was our high school graduation song in 1970.
These are only a few of my Beatles Philosophies;

Little Darlin, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter,

Little Darlin, it seems like years since it's been here,

Here comes the sun

Here comes the sun

and I say

It' alright....

Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, life goes on.

My favorite two, side by side;

All you need is love, love is all you need.

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.

Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns, it calls me on and on across the universe.

Little child, little child, won't you come dance with me?

We all want to change the world, but when you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out.

Yesterday, all my troubles seem so far away..

And for you, my sweet girl,

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

The Beatles Live

Que Sera, Sera

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, what will I be?
Will I be pretty, will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me,

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

When I was young, I fell in love
I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead,
Will we have rainbows, day after day
Here's what my sweetheart said,

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Now I have children of my own
They ask their mother, what will I be
Will I be handsome, will I be rich
I tell them tenderly,

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

My mom sang this song to me throughout my life, even when I was a mother myself. I remember hearing her beautiful voice singing it to my brothers as well. When you were little, I sang it to you. When you learned the words, we sang it together. I know now when we stopped singing it and my heart aches for what that loss truly represented in your life. We also sang "You are My Sunshine" in perfect harmony! When you heard someone else singing it for their child the first time, you were quite perturbed that they had "stolen our song"! When I explained that many mothers probably considered this one of their songs, you thought about it for a long moment, then said that it was okay because none of them ever sang the other versus. There are many, including the one about crayfish and gumbo, but we usually sang the first two out of order. Now the second verse makes me sadder than I ever thought possible from a song and I hang my head and cry.

You Are My Sunshine
My only sunshine.
You make me happy
When skies are grey.
You'll never know, dear,
How much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away

The other night, dear,
As I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms.
When I awoke, dear,
I was mistaken
And I hung my head and cried.


                                                  

Doris Day "Que Sera, Sera"


Johnny and June Cash "You Are My Sunshine"

And...the Ray Charles version!

Kennasent

I'm not sure where to begin with this Kennasent moment. Yesterday I found a little paper origami box you made. Inside I found an old silver pine cone charm of mine that you had put on a chain to wear as a necklace. I carried it into the kitchen to polish it and on the floor in the hallway was a real pine cone. It was the one I picked up under a tall pine tree after we had scattered your ashes. So I placed it next to your angels and candles and pictures on the sideboard and just thought it was a sweet coincidence, as I hadn't seen either for over a year. Did you think I didn't get the message clearly enough? Because this afternoon, I took Kenton to our dentist, Dr. Chris. He met you once and you had an impact on him even then. Last summer, when I told Dr. Chris about you, he kneeled down and cried. Today, on the waiting room table was the newest issue of People magazine. It must have arrived today because it had the "not guilty verdict" for Casey Anthony in it and that just happened two days ago. Thankfully, the cover was not of Casey Anthony but quite the opposite. The picture was of a woman who overcame unspeakable odds not only to to survive but to become a mother. It was a full page picture of Jaycee Dugard with a small insert of the picture at age 11 that resembled you at the age. Inside was an excerpt of her book "A Stolen Life". It was unbearable to read so I turned the page, thinking I would buy it and read it later. And on the next page was a full page picture of a beautiful young women wearing the same silver pine cone necklace and holding an identical real pine cone in her hand. A pine cone was the last thing she touched before her abduction. She said they have special meaning for her and are the "seeds of new life". Message received loud and clear, my girl!

The Sun, the Moon, the Stars

 My three most precious treasures, my sun, my moon, my star.

 Kameron was my sun because the world just revolved around him, as it should with first babies! He is my sun-son! He made parenting look so easy and I wanted to have 10 more! He ate well, slept like a baby, and we could take him anywhere! Your dad took him in a front pack for a walk every day across the street to the Forest Service Complex and they watched the same nature films dozens of times. He was so smart and so articulate that he seemed like a tiny adult at times. The first time my mom held him, she said he was a special child who had an important reason for being here. When he took care of her during the days after her brain surgery, she thought that was the reason, at least for her at that time, and she called him her hero. I know he was yours every day of your life. I'm so glad you told him so.
 You were my star from the minute you arrived. From the twinkle in your beautiful blue eyes to the your play acting to both of us stargazing as we never (let me say that again) never slept more than a few cat naps here and there for one whole year. The doctor told me to keep a journal of when you slept. When I showed it to him, he exclaimed, "Well, no wonder you aren't sleeping, you are always writing!" Even Grandma Rake didn't believe me, so Cheryl and I went to stay with her for a visit. She told me to go lay down and she and Cheryl would watch you and Kameron. 16 hours later, I awoke and she said, "Did you know this little stinker only closes her eyes and nods off for 10 minutes at a time? She is as good as can be and just smiles and looks around, but we are exhausted!" So, my little one, we had many nights of stargazing, rocking and singing. Then, of course, there were your many star tattoos. I loved your wristlets but my favorite is the one on your right front shoulder to cover the "It was just a mistake" tattoo.
 Kenton, of course is my moon. He was so easy going and so loved and was cared for by so many as a baby. When you both helped deliver him, you were the first to hold him and you said it was the only time in your life (at 5 years old!) when you laughed and cried at the same time. He went through a crying phase for a few months and you were the only one who could comfort Scooter and turn his tears to laughter. We were all "over the moon" for him when he was born. You, of course, thought he "hung the moon" and over the years you talked about his creativeness and his genius. He is constant yet ever changing, which I love! There are so many phases of The Boy and I can't wait to see each one.

 KC was the first to see you as a butterfly so I think she needs to be included in my sun, moon and stars world. Perhaps as the butterfly that needs all three, who basks and glows in their light and surrounds them. Kameron gave her a Tiffany butterfly necklace on their wedding day. What do you think?

Shoot for the moon and if you miss, you'll still be among the stars. Les Brown

I always loved this quote but it has deeper meaning for me now. So I'll keep shooting for the moon until I can join you among the stars. Goodnight, sweetheart.

Kenna, KC, Kameron and Kenton

Never Pass a Lemonade Stand

Today I met Cheryl (Aunt Chebyl to you) for lunch. We had a lovely time and laughed and sighed over Kenna stories. On the way home, I passed a small lemonade stand on our street. I turned around and went back. Even though it was later in the day, the girls screeched and said "Are you going to buy our lemonade? You're our first costumer!" Well, of course I was going to have their lemonade because I taught you all early on never pass a lemonade stand for a myriad of reasons. You continued that tradition and told all family members to heed that rule or else! When we had your celebration of life, your Uncle Mike and Aunt Jill and Cousin Chris were driving up from Santa Rosa, as they had many times. When they got to our street, they inexplicably took a wrong turn and came upon a lemonade stand. Heeding your words, they stopped and bought lemonade. They brought me a cup as well. Your Aunt Jill spoke of it at your celebration as a sign that your were with us. It was such a Kenna thing to do on such an overwhelmingly emotional day.

So today, I drank a cup in your honor and gave them a twenty dollar bill I had in my pocket. When they jumped up and hugged me, I realized one was dressed in a crayon suit and the other in banana suit. "Now who does that sound like?" I thought. Another "In your face" moment brought to you by Kenna.

Return to Me

When Jaycee Lee Dugard was found in late August of 2009, you called me at school to tell me. You were ecstatic and happy and marveling at the miracle of it all. When I came home, you were crying as the details became available because they were just so overwhelming and devastating. You  were eleven years old and in a local television show at the time of her abduction. You and your TV news reporter partner traveled to South Lake Tahoe to interview Jaycee's parents. They were so broken and so understandably desperate to find her. Her mother kept looking at you and then remarked that you looked so much like Jaycee. You were the same age, size, and had the same hair and eye color. You had freckles and healed over pierced ear holes just like Jaycee. And you both had that gap between your front teeth. Her mother asked if you would consider making a reenactment film of her abduction. I did not want you to because it seemed like it would be such a traumatic event. But you kept insisting that it's what I would want if you were missing, to have anyone help anyway they could. And there was no talking you out of it. We came back a few days later and the whole scene at their house had changed to a "set". When they dressed you in Jaycee's clothes and took you up to the top of the hill to practice having the car block you as you were walking to the bus stop, it was surreal. There were cameras and crews at the top and bottom of the hill. We were down below watching on a small monitor. When Kameron saw it as it was acted out, it apparently became very real for him. Even though he knew intellectually it was acting and you were not in harm's way, he instinctively took off running up that long, steep hill. And, as fast as he was, he could not reach you in time. That's when we knew the stepfather was telling the truth, that he had tried to run to her but was too late. Unfortunately, after all the years she was missing, many people felt he must be guilty and the truth would never be known. It turned out to be worse that anyone had imagined. But you remembered that incident with your hero, Kameron,  and after she was found, you said that now people will know he was an innocent, grieving dad all along. You were angry that the kidnappers plead not guilty and would put Jaycee and her family through a long trial. Well, at the last minute, they both plead guilty and on June 2, 2011, Philip Garrido was sentenced to 431 years imprisonment; his wife received 36 years to life. Justice? You and I know there is none in these heinous cases. I'm so sorry there was no justice for you. In a twist of irony that you would find funny and infuriating at the same time, I was called for jury duty soon after your passing. I checked the box to be excused due to a death in the immediate family. I then received a request for a copy of your death certificate which I mailed immediately. A few months later, guess what arrived in the mail? A jury summons for you! I was amazed that the system that wouldn't help me when I wanted a missing persons report filed could spend time, money and resources to require your presence at that dreaded courthouse even after they had received your death certificate. So, just so you know, since the followup paperwork appears not to have made it back to them (hmmm), there's a notice for you to appear for not doing your civic duty. Wow, our Kenna, a fugitive from justice. Irony at it's best and worst. Kameron posted on his Facebook page that it probably wouldn't be a good idea for them to show up at your mother's house looking for you.

Ritorno a me
Cara mia, ti amo
Solo tu, solo tu, solo tu
Solo tu, mio cuore

Dean Martin's Return to Me


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_mqIaWKsBQ&feature=related