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