Another Mother's Day arrives tomorrow. I will always be a mother of three and celebrate that everyday. But it will always be a bittersweet day for me no matter how many years pass.
This year seems laden with more sorrow and helplessness than one family should have to shoulder.
Just when we begin to laugh and smile again without the guilt (almost) or think what a beautiful day it is without the immediate after thoughts of doubt, something else seems to rear it's ugly head and shout, "You didn't think it was going to get easier, did you!?"
What is this? This is the life other people have, the life you look at and think how grateful you are to have what you have and not be in that situation. But now it seems people look at us and think that.
Or do they wonder why? Why do terrible things happen to good people?
We are good people. We are decent people. We are moral people. We are mothers and brothers and aunts and uncles and grandmas and grandpas and cousins and friends who just work hard, live simply, try to do the right thing, and love deeply. So why? I have no answers.
I want to live up to what you asked of all of us, but then I think you couldn't have known how hard this would be. And yet, through my most painful heartache and tears, I realize that you could know, because with as much pain as we are in and when I think we can't take any more, I remember that your pain was expedentially worse. Ours does not compare and I know that in my heart, but that doesn't make it hurt less. We miss you every second of every minute of every day of every week of every month of every year. And that will never change. Closure does not exist when you lose your daughter the way I lost you. Closure is a word that should be relegated to the "Outta Here" box.

"Seriously? You had a doll made from my picture? Kinda creepy, Mama. But... thanks."

 

 

Graduation 1998

So, tomorrow I will celebrate knowing it is what you want and what Kameron, Kenton and K.C. deserve from a mother who cherishes and loves every moment with them. But know that at evening's end, I will still do my silly dance under the moonlight for you and look up to the heavens to find you. I know you'll be waiting.

I know we have the most wonderful friends and they support us in so many ways, but today they all went the extra mile (pun intended!) to help us on this journey. K.C. started Team Kenna Lindsay for the National Association of Mental Illness "NAMI Walk" to honor you. What an awesome tribute. We walked to bring awareness to this issue that affects every family everyday.
It was a perfectly beautiful, sunny, soft breezy day to walk together in the park. And at the conclusion, without asking, our friends said they will be back next year. I couldn't speak. Even now when I write those words, it makes me teary.
Your aunt Chebyl came and next year she's bringing her dogs! The Charlie's Angels girls and school friends came; Debi, Robin, Vickie, Pat, Lynn, Jennie and her daughter and husband! Karin and her girls came even after Paige broke her foot just the day before and her mom and your brother took turns pulling her in the wagon. Violet built a beautiful Fairy Garden in the park. Kenton and Jenna and Kameron and K.C. and Mina and Mama represented you with love and a little limping!
So many others walked with us in spirit and donated to the cause. K.C. raised over $1,200.00 in your name! Blessings come in all forms. You will never be forgotten, Kenna Lindsay.

                                                    Team Kenna Lindsay April 27, 2013

Go Ask Alice

I left school at the end of the day with the full intention to return and get things ready for Open House. But something made me turn my car down a side street I never take from school. As I drive, thinking, "Okay, now you are just going to get lost and waste time again...",  I turn on the radio and it starts playing White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane.
"So down the rabbit hole I go, but at least you are by my side." I whisper out loud as I laugh and silently thank you for a funny moment in a long day. Then I turn onto another new street and what ran across right in front of my car? A white rabbit. "Shut the front door!"  I shout and laugh  incredulously. A white rabbit. Of course it did. A white rabbit! What was it doing in this residential neighborhood just hopping across the street? I pull over and get out to take a picture as it ran back across the street, stopping in the middle as if to listen to the song blaring from the car, turned and looked right at me, then continued on its journey under the fence. Of course it did.

"There is no use in trying." said Alice, "One can't believe in impossible things."
"I dare say you haven't had much practice. " said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

I believe.

Why This Song?

 I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done

And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear

Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say

To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do

Light up...

Slower slower
We don't have time for that
All I want is to find an easier way
To get out of our little heads

Have heart my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess

Snow Patrol

Dream On

A few  months ago, I had my first dream about you. Why it took so long and what it was about still alludes and haunts me ...
I didn't even see you in it, I just heard your voice and you were behind a small wall, telling me to go.

Last night, I had the first real dream. I came into a room and my Grandma and Grandpa Rake were there. Grandpa was standing behind Grandma who was sitting in a rocking chair with her eyes closed. (I don't remember ever seeing her in a rocking chair.) Grandpa looked healthy and happy and had that big grin on his face and was so happy to see me. Grandma opened her eyes with a startled look, saw me, smiled and said "Honey, Kenna's here."
I looked around and you were outside open french doors on a veranda with your back to me. You turned around and I ran and hugged you. It was a hug like nothing I've ever felt. I know it became hard for you to be physically affectionate with anyone and you always kept a slight distance, understandably so. But this time, you just melted into me, and me into you and it was the best feeling I can remember in so long. I couldn't let go and you didn't let go. It was the most serene, loving, amazing and peaceful connection.
Then I noticed the beautiful sunset and that everything was a pure, indescribable soft, yet bright white.
Everyone was draped softly in white, wispy, flowing cloth. No words...
Then I awoke.
My first thought was to cry because I didn't want to leave you, not then, not ever.
Then I realized it appeared to be similar to the stories people tell when they are revived after technically dying but being revived. I had been talking about that topic with friends this week so maybe I just continued the conversation in my sleep. I don't know what I believe anymore but what I do know is:

Karma
When I see you, you are seeing me.

Thank you for coming. If this is what I have to look forward to, it will be so hard to wait, but I think that was the message. Live now the best I can, look forward to reuniting with you and my loved ones gone before. I always believed everyone would be together some day, but this was the first time since you left that I actually realized you were all together.
I'm trying, honey, but I will always need all of your help.

What's In A Name?

It's so hard to go back to those first hours, but this story needed telling. It's time.
Grandma and Grandpa had just signed over the papers that morning for Kameron to take ownership of MYDARKO, your beloved Donnie Darko Subaru. It seemed the fitting thing to do. I cautiously drove it to Kamerons' and K.C.'s house, so afraid I would get into an accident before arriving. That day, we all sat in their backyard telling Kenna stories with family and friends. I told them about the huge container of cinnamon sticks you purchased the week before. When I asked why we needed such a large jar, you proceeded to tell me the logic behind your choice. "Well, Mama, you could buy the name brand jar in the fancy spice aisle which is very small and very expensive per ounce, or you could go to the ethnic food section and buy this jar, which cost much less for substantially more product. You do the math!" I started to say that maybe we could use them for potpourri or as package ties or in apple cider ...."Okay, Martha Stewart, stop right there!" you interrupted in your exasperated voice.
After you left us just days later, this just seemed so poignantly funny to me as I shared it with our family.
A few minutes later, Kenton asked for a ride to the mall. Kameron said I could take your car. "Oh no!" I said. "You know if I take that car now that it's arrived safely, I will get rear ended as soon as I leave the driveway." No one believed it, of course, but Kameron said I could take their old car instead if I'd rather. And that's what we did.
Kenton and I took off down the driveway, made a right turn, then another right turn, then a left turn. Waiting at the light, I saw a car make a u-turn in the middle of the street and try to come up behind me. He wasn't looking ahead, just behind, and sure enough, he ran right in to the back of the car. Kenton called Kameron and said we had been in an accident. Of course he laughed and didn't believe us because we had been gone for less than five minutes.
Kenton was calm and collected and dealt with the man, who was very apologetic. When he gave Kenton his phone number, Kenton dialed it on his phone and the man's phone rang in his pocket. What a clever brother you have as that was not even on my radar! I, having tried to hold back so many emotions for days, just lost it. Really lost it. I poured out the whole story about you and your death and the cars and our whole life story it appears, in a matter of seconds. This poor young man was without words while this crazy women was babbling and blubbering on the side of the road. After a few minutes, we moved both cars into the lot on the corner and he and Kenton exchanged information while I just sat on the curb in stunned disbelief.
When all was done, we went to leave and I apologized for becoming hysterical. He assured me that I had every right to do so and how sorry he was to have made this tragic time worse by his carelessness. He took all responsibility for the accident.
I finally thought to ask his name.
He reached out his hand to take mine and he said, "Dan. Dan Cinnamon."
"No, it's not!" I insisted loudly and laughed in disbelief. Thinking I misunderstood, he repeated it just the same way. Really? Who has the name Cinnamon? And at that moment, on that hot afternoon, in the incredulous irony of it all, I just sat back down on the curb and started to laugh hysterically. Again, this nice young man didn't know what to do. Kenton was smiling when I finally looked up at him and we both just knew you were still in charge, laughing with us.
If that isn't a Kennasent-in-your-face moment, what is?
It was only the first in what was to be a long line of them for our family and friends.
To be continued.....

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

I'm sorry it took so long for me to visit your beautiful place of rest. When I did, I sat alone, on the top of that beautiful mountain, looking over the late evening turquoise blue of June Lake, the sunset colors of the aspens, and the blue haze of the night sky, highlighting the outline of your tree.
The mountains across the lake were aglow as the sun set. I looked up towards the top of your tree and there was the moon between the branches, in a hurry to rise, as if in a race with the setting sun. I sat on a rock and listened to the silence and asked you for a sign. Any sign. A bluebird for Grandma Judy, a blackbird for you, a pinecone dropping, the eagle who flew over the top of our tree when we scattered your ashes, any sign. I waited until it became dusk and I became concerned that the sign might be a meandering bear, so I decided to head back to the house. As I walked away, not bothering to wipe the tears, I turned to look one last time at the view. And I realized that was my sign, the golden sunset, the silver moon, the gentle breeze that reflected in the light on the slight waves on the lake. It was then I finally felt your peace for the first time.
My dear sweet Kenna, I should know better than to ask for a sign. They are all around me every day.
But you couldn't leave it at that, could you? As I rounded the curve by June Mountain, there, in the middle of the road, was the brightest blue bird I have ever seen. It didn't move as I came closer. It finally tilted it's head, looked at me and then flew away. My sad teardrops turned into streams of laughing tears.
I told K.C. about it when we went back the next day. I left her alone to talk to you in private and she was surprised to see a pinecone near her. I wasn't surprised at all when she told me because of the pinecone thread that has been running through our lives forever. And then, just to make sure I got the message that you were present, on the way home, there, in the middle of the road, in the same spot as the bluebird, was one tiny blackbird. Once again, laughing through the tears. What else could we do?


                                                 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.

"Starring Kevin Costner as Kevin Costner!"

I miss your running joke about Kevin Costner. He still is one of my favorite actors and I know this because I watched Dances with Wolves again today for probably the 30th time. I had to reflect that maybe it's not as much his acting as it is the roles he chooses. Maybe it's because he looks a little like my dad. Dad is kind of a cross between Costner and Steve McQueen. Whatever the reason, you always gave me a bad time about liking him because you thought his acting wasn't really acting, just him being him. You'd laugh and say "Oh, look, it's Dances with Wolves, starring... Kevin Costner... as ... Kevin Costner!", or "Message in a Bottle starring... Kevin Costner ... as ... Kevin Costner!" And so it would go with any film bearing his presence.
What you didn't know and might have found interesting and perhaps elevated your view of him are the following tidbits:
Dances with Wolves and Field of Dreams are among the American Film Institute's 100 Most Inspiring Movies of All Time.
He turned down Jeff Bridge's role (albeit of his best performances!) in Jagged Edge and the Kill Bill roles!

"I made a life. I pretend to be heroes, that’s what I’ve gotten to play but that doesn’t make me."
                                                                                                                                            K. Costner

But I think you would have loved his recent mini-series, "The Hatfield's and The McCoys", even if you couldn't admit it! Everyone else in the series were actors you liked!

His band also has a song out that has become quite popular, so there is no denying he has talent, and even you might concede to that!

Angels Came Down

Walking all alone in the Southern rain
By graveyards and battlefields that blood still stains
Back to a time when the angels came
Walking all alone in the Southern rain
In the forests and the fields so many men were killed
I can hear their cries still echo through these hills
That was the time when the angels came
Walking all alone in the Southern rain
The angels came down to the fallen men
They held their hands and they prayed for them
They carried their souls beyond the moon and the sun
All the way to heaven one by one
The angels worked so hard for so many years
To heaven and back again they shed so many tears
They left no one and they placed no blame
Walking all alone in the Southern rain
The angels came down to the fallen men
They held their hands and they prayed for them
They carried their souls beyond the moon and the sun
All the way to heaven one by one
Walking all alone in the Southern rain
Never heal the troubles never heal the pain
But that was the time when the angels came
Walking all alone in the Southern Rain

While looking for the lyrics to Angels Came Down, I found another song. When I do my silly dance for you in the moonlight, I now hear this song in my head. And I think how happy I am that it is performed by Kevin Costner... as Kevin Costner!

Moon So High

Moon’s so high
Nowhere to go but down from here
Here am I wishing that you were near
But it all came crashing down
You were nowhere to be found
Yeah I remember your little girl smile
I guess never had you
Just held you for a little while
Till it all came crashing down
You were nowhere to be found
There’s still pieces all around scattered everywhere
You could break my heart girl a thousand times or more
I’d still come running back to knock upon your door
Don’t get me wrong I really ain’t that mad
You’re just the best thing I’ve ever had
And I remember last November
Yeah I see right to the day
You turned around and walked away
Then it all came crashing down -
You were nowhere to be found
There’s still pieces all around
Pieces of my broken heart
The Moon So High tonight
Nowhere to go but down from here
Well you’d think by now I might’ve learned to say goodbye
But I’ll never say goodbye I’ll never say goodbye ...

Baja or Bust!

Kenton and I were sitting and reading on the beach with Rosie in front of Dad and Pam's lovely home in Baja. Their house is right behind us. I asked them the same thing you would have, "You couldn't get something a little closer to the water?" Rosie looks well and loves the sand and the sea! When we arrived, there was a rabbit running on the road behind their house right in front of the truck. She went under their back fence and sat in their side yard until Rosie spotted her. Was that you she chased so happily? We believe it was. When we left at 5:00 AM, there she was again on the darkened side of the road as if to say farewell.

Frigate

I danced under the full moonlight for you, wrote in my journal for you, and we all sent some of Grandma Judy's and your ashes into the moonlit sea.
So beautiful and peaceful with lovely people not in a hurry. The Tamale Lady brought fresh tamales our first morning. We fished off their boat and saw brown pelicans,  frigates, and ospreys sitting on their huge nests high atop the rocks.
I put the proverbial "message in a bottle" for you and Dad and Pam will send it out in the Sea of Cortez. You loved the water when you were little, not so much when you got older. I hope you are traveling to all the places you ever dreamed of and more and finding the peace there that you couldn't find here.
Dad saw the same beautiful angel cloud in Baja that Chana and I saw on the playground. We have no doubt who it was. A painting waiting.

I'm a Barbie Girl in a Barbie World

Barbie Encounter #1:

"My First Barbie" circa 1980

You had just turned three and we were in the doll aisle at Toys-R-Us. A lady asked your opinion about the type of Barbie she should get for her granddaughter who was about your age. Of course, people began to gather as you spoke like an authority with the vocabulary and confidence of an adult, albeit it in that little confidential, whispery, cartoony voice we so loved.
You explained that "My First Barbie" would be a good choice as they had "simple clothing with easy snaps for tiny fingers and there were many different hair colors". You told her that you, however, liked the other ones because you had mastered buttons and shoes because you were an expert. She smiled and thanked you and chose the blond "My First Barbie". You looked at me and said, "She made a good choice!" Everyone was smiling and laughing but then, just as she began to walk away, you shouted in true Kenna volume style, "Oh, by the way, be sure to tell your granddaughter that real women aren't built like that!"  People literally bent over, kneeling in the aisle as you grabbed my hand to head off to the Legos.

Barbie Encounter #2:

Recently, I found the red, white and blue clad Barbie in your hope chest. When we first saw this "Barbie for President" doll in 1992, you merely asked,"Why doesn't it just say President Barbie?"  Period.

And even now, twenty years later, we are still left with this recent announcement that shows we have not come so far in the presidential field, "The “I Can Be … 2012 President Barbie doll will be available for pre-order beginning April 5 at mattelshop.com and at retail stores in August." Arrggghhhhh!

Barbie Encounter #3:
When Chana and I made the boy's t-shirt quilts this year, you had a Barbie shirt that proclaimed in gold lettering, "What a Doll!" on the front and "Barbie" on the back. Half went on Kenton's quilt and half went on Kameron's. Both were amused that she was represented!

Barbie Encounter #4:

I know it may seem silly at this point, but I bought you the World of Culture Museum Collection Leonardo DaVinci Barbie doll this Christmas because it looks like the painting Kenton and I are doing of you right down to the sly half smile on her beautiful face.

Barbie Encounter #5:

                                                   

I recently found the last Barbie I ever received. It was from you, of course. It's the Beatrix Potter Tale of Peter Rabbit doll. I know you got it for me because we shared a love of her personal story and her stories! I'm not a doll collector but it appears that I now have my own Barbie collection that just keeps growing with these appearances. I love that you knew I would like this connection to literature. Thank you, my sweet girl.

Someday My Prince WIll Come

These are the rabbit ears you wore in the play!

When Sue Toolan I wrote our first grade play about Cinderella (with a twist), you were the perfect choice to be "Rabbitrella. You refused to even pretend to kiss the prince because Sean had a runny nose. How I wish I had the tape of it. When you swept and danced with a broom and sang "Someday My Prince Will Come", you finished and realized you needed to take a bow during the unexpected applause, but didn't know what to do with the broom. So, in typical quick-on-her-feet-Kenna-style, you stuck that old broom between your knees, locked them together and took your well-earned bow. The applause went on and on.
Your favorite joke back then: "What did Cinderella say when her pictures had not arrived at the Photomat"? (You sang) "Someday my prints will come!"

'Nough Said

KWT 2012

 The only one in our family who had no tattoos,

                                 now has these to honor you.

                                           

Another Mother's Day

When is it not a mother's day? Mothers should celebrate every day.
We are mothers every day, forever.
This is my second one without you. And as much as I don't want to dwell on that, it seems impossible to ignore. Last year was hard and we just needed to get through all of those "firsts".  That first Mother's Day in what I logically knew would be many was unbearable. But this year, it is the one where reality sets it. This is how it will always be, Mother's Day without my Kenna, my daughter, my girl.
Sometimes people unintentionally make insensitive comments such as "Hasn't it been long enough?" or "It's been almost a year." or "When are they going to get over it?"
No one that has lost a child would ever, ever utter those words to one who had lost a loved one, especially a child or a sister or a granddaughter or a niece or cousin like you. Because the answer is "Never."
Time heals nothing. It just moves along. You are pulled along in it's tide, even when you don't have the strength or desire to move. You pretend, you smile, you laugh and try to enjoy the moments where you can, but it will never be "over".
I am so grateful for the love and support of my family and friends, but this is a lonely journey few can take alongside you and truly understand. The tears are always at the surface just waiting for anything to make them fall gently or pour like a waterfall. A song, a insipid commercial, a conversation among others, anything can set it off and there you are, not "getting over it". Ever.

I watered the garden last week and noticed the Yesterday, Today and Forever plant was close to blooming, just as it had last year at this time, precisely on Mother's Day. Today, I walked out to see if it had bloomed. Just as I opened the door, the first small white butterfly of the season flew near my face, hovered near me as if to say, "Follow me!" which I did. It flew around the garden and straight to the plant where it landed on the fully blooming petals of lavender and purple and white. Although it's not usually your style to be subtle, I thank you for coming to me so peacefully and quietly on this Mother's Day!

Down the Rabbit Hole

I had an appointment this morning at 10:00 AM downtown. I arrived early so I decided to drive around and look at the beautiful architecture of the old homes in old downtown Sacramento. On 23rd and S street was a yard sale sign. No reason to stop, no need to buy anything, no time to really spend doing that, but something pulled me. I looked at the small driveway and saw industrial type items, an old propeller, a metal chair, rusty tools. Don't even look, I told myself. Still, the pull. On thing I have learned very late in this life is to listen to that little voice in my head. When it whispers, I want to understand it. When it begins to grow louder, I think there must be a reason. Who knows? So I listened.
I perused the old objects and saw nothing of interest. Okay, I am just killing time before my appointment, I rationalized. Then, this lovely, sweet, happy man stepped out and said, "Oh, the art work is inside the house." "Don't tell me that!" I exclaimed. But of course I went in. The first thing I saw was a painting of a ski area that looked like June Mountain. Curious. Then I saw an antique painting of trees that looked like one of my mother's old paintings. Curiouser. And then, there it was, a beautiful hand painted watercolor of Paris that I wanted to get for Kameron and KC for their surprise (which may still take me years to do at this rate!). I thought it would be quite expensive for an original watercolor, but he said it might be a print so it was only ten dollars. I looked again and I said I thought it is an original. (I know, I should keep quiet sometimes!) He looked again and agreed but still said ten dollars anyway, for my honesty.

Another couple was looking at the beautiful original pieces of jewelry he had created decades ago. They offered what I thought was an insulting price for a beautiful large agate stone piece. He politely declined saying that it meant more than that to him. They again offered another insulting price and, again, he declined. "So, for a few bucks, you'll lose this sale and we will never return!" the man huffed. "For a dollar, I'd be happy if you never returned." he replied. Without thinking, I applauded. They left and we began to talk about the crazy way people seemed to be behaving recently in all areas of life. He then showed me beautiful dishes from the fifties, old LP's, all things of interest to me, to Kameron, to KC, to Kenton. But I tried to stay focused and not go crazy! I bought the Paris painting, the tree painting and a beautiful hand tinted picture for less than twenty dollars. He went to get change for me and I said no. I wanted to show him that what he had was worth it to me and that maybe I could make up for rude people, if only for that day. He smiled and asked if I was an artist. I said "No, but I play one on TV!" I told him about the true artists in our family, my mom, my Uncle Jim, my Great Aunt Edith, your drawings and writings, Kenton's music and art,  Kameron's musical ear and gift of knowledge. Then I shared the story of the only painting Kameron ever made. I still love that story. I had finally bought the very expensive tubes of watercolor that I wanted and knew the tiny tubes would last my entire painting career. I came home one day and Kameron had used them to paint a canvas in a colorful modern art design. It was quite good, but he said "Wow, Mom, these little tubes don't go far. They barely covered the whole canvas!" I smiled, complimented his creation, then told him never to allow the painting to get near water (as dried watercolors reconstitute!), but I believe it is hanging in their bathroom now. I was sharing this story as the gentleman was carrying the paintings to my car, when he sat them down and said, "Wait! I'll be back."
He returned after a few minutes of what he said was a "search" and handed me the largest flat tin of watercolors I had ever seen! He had opened it to show me the paints inside. It was probably from the fifties, and was used and messy and missing a few of the 76 color pots, but I didn't see any of that. He began to apologize for the condition and I was moved almost to tears. Almost. Then he said, "I think you and your children would enjoy using these." He closed the lid and then I was moved to tears that I could not explain to him. Curiouser and curiouser. I knew you were there and smiling and laughing and knowing exactly why my heart was bursting. He could not have known, but you did. And once again, happily this time, down the rabbit hole I slid.

This is the tin! (Picture from Christie's auction)

Bird Watcher

When you left the Rascal and Lil Bear in my care, you were probably hoping I would keep up your tradition of dressing them up. I just can't. But I am keeping Lil Bear healthy and flea free and spoiling her with wet food (only a little!). She doesn't know how ridiculous she looks with the infamous lion cut so we won't tell her when we get it again this summer.  Rascal is gone and can't hiss at the haircut cat she didn't recognize.
When you brought them here with Baby Kitty, they were all such indoor, stay out of the snow and away from the bears and eagle talons, pets. But Rascal took to the outdoors in this beautiful weather immediately. Not so much with Baby Kitty and Lil Bear.
Remember how long it took for Lil Bear to even go outside and walk in the grass? She put her paw on the grass one step per day for weeks. Now she loves the yard and goes out to meander. She stalks birds and squirrels all the time but never is successful in catching either. I thought she was too old to out run them.
Well, today, Lil Bear, at the grand old age of 12, caught her first bird!

Lil Bear on my lap! 

She was sleeping on my lap when, out of nowhere, a small bird flew across the room, banged into one window, then another. Lil Bear leaped off my lap and into the air and took the bird down in the corner by your hope chest in less than 4 seconds. I really didn't know she could move that fast!  I'm yelling and telling her to let go, (she didn't seem to hear me over her guttural growling), Kenton came running, picked her up right off that little bird and put her in time out. We both ran around looking for an open door or window or some way the bird got in the house. Nothing. Maybe she was hiding in here for awhile as the screen door was open for a bit yesterday.
There were a few little feathers around but the bird seems fine, although I can't pick her up. She moved under the hope chest so I am hoping she'll come out soon. She's probably terrified. I know it got my heart racing!
Lil Bear is now banished to the kitchen and is crying to come back in the back room.
So, where are you when I need my little animal whisperer?
Lil Bear will probably have a renewed interest in trying to catch those little birds at the feeder outside the window.

Update:
The tiny bird finally came hopping out this evening. I sat and quietly watched to make sure it was okay, then I slid open the window and knocked out the screen so it could fly out. Well, it hopped up onto one of my planters with the large ficus tree where a small ceramic bird sat on the edge. The bird cocked it's head from side to side as if to ask it how to get out of this place. Not getting a response, it jumped over to the other planter and, of course, there was another little wooden bird perched on that one. Again, it tried to communicate but didn't get anywhere. I thought I was torturing this poor little creature and he must have thought he landed in Bizzaro World amid all the bird decor. Finally, I moved over near the little bird and it jumped onto the windowsill where there were, yep, three little bird statues. After a few seconds of looking at them and getting no response, it flew out the window.
I let Lil Ber back in the room and she is still hunting for her catch of the day.

Don't Dress Your Cat in an Apron
by Dan Greenberg

Don't dress your cat in a apron
Just 'cause he's learning to bake.
Don't put your horse on a nightgown
Just 'cause he can't stay awake.
Don't dress your snake in a muu-muu
Just 'cause he's off on a cruise.
Don't dress your whale in galoshes
If she really prefers overshoes.

A person should wear what they want to
And not just what other folks say.
A person should wear what she likes to-
A person's a person that way.

Dancing Queens

Whenever I heard this song, I thought of you. It's what I hoped for you, what I prayed for you, what I so wanted for you. It feels so empty now, as if my Pollyanna dreams for you discounted how deep your pain was rooted. I know you didn't lose many of these things while you fought the battle. I just wanted them to help you heal. Naive, once again. Now the song reminds me of all the joys in life I've experienced and guilt shadows the glaring reality that you never will. 

But now, in your honor, and to my great chagrin if anyone were ever to see me, I dance for a few minutes ever night with wild abandon to whatever oldie is playing at the moment. It's ironic how many of the songs, no matter the time of night, have a message that seems to come from you to me or from me to you.  I'll take it...

 The Hitchhike   Age 16  LVHS Yearbook 1968   

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give fate a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance 

                                                 Music and Lyrics by Mark D. Sanders/Tia Sillers

Wherever you are, my little ballerina, I hope you're dancing...

Out of the Blue

As the rain tapped on the window against the backdrop of the sunset, I thought how stunning it was, but how these moments are always sadly tempered because of not being able to share them with you. I was feeling melancholy and missing you all. Then, out of the blue, Robin called. I think there should be a new definition for the phrase "out of the blue" because she took me right out of it. We went for frozen yogurt. As I was getting out of the car, I unexpectedly told her about Kameron's new tattoo. As we walked through the door of the shop, I was explaining that the numbers came from the "Donnie Darko" movie. Guess what song was playing? I hadn't heard it since your celebration of life because I change the station when it comes on or bypass it on itunes.

Of course you know what song it was, as this was another Kennasent moment in a Mad World.

They come at the most unexpected times, just out of the blue.

Donnie Darko Trivia


Interesting

Curiouser and Curiouser

The year you were born, Easter seemed to come early, although Easter means "moveable feast", not fixed in relation to the civil calendar. Hence, many of the gifts we received had a rabbit or bunny theme. They were everywhere; stuffed animals, blankets, a small rabbit hooded sweater, rabbit slippers, ribbons, a rabbit planter with a small plant, even wrapping paper. It seemed as if you had a theme before you could even choose one! And all throughout your life, they seemed to make an appearance just to keep us on our toes.


                                               

And of course, there is always the crazy Alice in Wonderland connection we share still.

"Why, sometimes I've imagined six impossible things before breakfast!" 




Albeit it a rather large one, Donnie Darko has a rabbit in it. 

Last week, after a very trying 36 hour trip in a car, a train, a taxi, a Greyhound bus, another bus, then Dad and Pam's truck, we pulled into their home in Baja and a rabbit ran across our path, slipped under the gate to their backyard and just stood there. It actually appeared to look over it's shoulder, inviting Rosie to give chase, which she did. We all agreed it was you, stopping to say everything is going to be alright. And from that second on, it was. On the morning we left at 5:00 AM, there you were again crossing the road in front of us as we left their little town to begin the long trip back in reverse, alleviating my fears. I listened to your ipod on the bus to the border and was comforted by the eclectic choice of music. I loved every song. Most made me cry because I know they were the last songs you heard.  It is so painful to know that. It hurts to write the words. I knew I would have to hear them someday and that day seemed to be beckoning.

Sweet dreams, my little Rabbitrella.

I'm a Believer

Hey, Babe.
Feeling blue, another reminder of one of the many reasons I will always miss you.
Davey Jones passed away today at age 66. Seems so young. I remember walking through the cafeteria one day about ten years ago and the Monkees song "I'm a Believer" was playing so I started singing and rocking out and all of the first and second graders looked at me in awe. One of them said "Mrs. Tidwell, do you like Smashmouth?" "What?" (It was on the Shrek movie soundtrack performed by Smashmouth. I sadly had to admit that I knew it from a group from the 60's...)

Davy Jones Tribute

On July 27, 2009, you and I were running errands and an announcement on the radio said they were giving away tickets to Raley Field that night to see the Hullabaloo concert. I cried that I had forgotten that I wanted to get tickets and was upset. You said we should go win them. So you waited with me to try to win tickets at the furniture store, in what was your least favorite thing in the Sacramento, the dreaded heat. But there you were, sitting on a concrete curb. After an hour, others had won and  I was ready to pack it in and leave, but you insisted we stay because you knew I really wanted to go.
And voila, I won two tickets and, double voila, you won two as well. We couldn't get in touch with anyone as we had to head straight to the concert. We were standing in line at Raley Field, trying to figure out who to give the second set of tickets to before the show started. You were watching people at the ticket window and saw two women, about my age, walking up, heads together in a serious conversation that went something like this, "No, I insist. I wanted to do this for you!" "But we can't really afford this." "Of course we can, just no drinks or treats but the music will be enough. It's Mickey Dolenz from the Monkees and Mark Lindsey from Paul Revere and the Raiders and, (slight squeal), Peter Noone of Herman's Hermits. All our favorites!" "So, let's get those tickets now!" We pulled them aside and explained that we had won an extra set and would like them to have them. They actually teared up and one of the ladies said it was the other's birthday...Of course it was.
Which brought me all the way back around to another concert you did not want to attend but you did so because you knew how much I wanted to go. In fact, I waited in line at Tower Records just to get a wristband to get in the line where maybe I would be drawn to get tickets for one of the two, changed to three shows. And, as luck would have it, I did. So I bought four tickets and we invited Dad and Pam. At the very last minute, they couldn't fly in, so there we were in the parking lot at Arco Arena, walking along discussing what to do with the two extra tickets. A young man was walking by us and his head almost snapped off of his shoulders as he swung around and said "What, you have a ticket?" I said I had two. "I'll give you $200.00 apiece for them! I promised my girlfriend I would get tickets but.. but.. but..." He looked about ready to cry or throw up. We said we couldn't take his money and he interrupted with "But that's all I have. I can send you more or give you a check or..." Again, we said we couldn't take his money but he could have them. He just stopped, stared at you, then at me, shook his head and said "Whaa..what, really...?"
So we gave him the tickets, amid hugs and thank yous and "Man, she is gonna be so thrilled."
When they showed up in the seats next to us, you whispered "Oh, they are so adorable. I'm glad they got the seats!" He insisted on buying you a t-shirt and you didn't have the heart to tell him you really didn't care for the big star about to hit the stage.
But he bought us drinks and cotton candy and you had as much fun watching them as I did watching my Garth Brooks that night.
Thank you for being so accommodating. I know it was the most painful time in our lives, following the attack and the arrest of the animals who hurt you for life, and G'ma passing, but you still did it for me. So, yes, sweet girl, I know you loved me. ("Country music? For crying out loud, Mama!!")

1. Thanks for letting me rock out, Knana! 7.25.09

Seriously?

Last night was Open House. I love having the children share what they've learned with their families! Everyone seems happy and proud. When it was over, Chana and I were walking out, tired, yet pleased with the turnout and the supportive comments and compliments received.  "See you in the morning at coffee!" we said simultaneously.
And then, in the dark and the rain, with a smile on my face, I walked out toward my car, promptly kicked the door stop (that we had asked to be moved months ago!), and down I went! I cried just like the Kindergartners do when they "fall down, go boom!" because it flipping hurts, not to mention humiliates and humbles oneself! My ankle was injured, I scraped both knees, landed on my left arm, hit my chin on my hand, and bounced.
"Really, I thought? What message is this?" I know you speak to me in a whisper sometimes and if I don't hear, you get louder. Most of the time the messages seem bent on making me aware of little things I could do better or safer or not at all, but this? I couldn't see the reasoning behind it. Four days before our first vacation in forever? Did you not want me to go to Baja?
The next morning, I ended up going to the school's required medical office that turned out to be the same one I had taken you to for your headaches. They were always so kind and empathetic.
When I signed in, the receptionist said "We haven't seen you in awhile. Kenna's headaches must be getting better!"
"Yes." I nodded, because I couldn't breath, let alone explain. When the doctor saw me, she inquired about you, so I told her. She was very quiet and, of course, sad. Sad for me, sad for us, but mostly sad for the loss of someone so special, which is the true story. Somehow, no matter where you went, whatever the circumstances, how little or how much time you spent with people, they connected with you. It was a gift that keeps on giving because when I went to sign out, the nurses and receptionists, who now knew, told me how sorry they were and how sad they felt, and as we all stood there trying not to cry, the happy "Muzak" tune stopped playing and what should begin but "Tears in Heaven". We all, without knowing the other was doing it, looked up and I exclaimed out loud, "Really, Kenna, this song, on this day, at this moment? Really?" When I looked around, there was not a dry eye in the waiting room, so I went outside and lost it. Lost it to the point of the ugly cry. Completely lost it. When I managed to get in the car to go back to school, the first thing the DJ said was that it was Eric Clapton's birthday, which I had completely overlooked apparently, but was vividly reminded, and then he played the best song ever written, my favorite, Layla. Really, Kenna?
Happy Birthday, Eric. Seriously.

Kenton and I saw this live, March 2007!