Ooh Child.

Sometimes I need just a bit more light.
A boost, a bump, a gentle push...
It's usually the sun that saves me, ushers me along.
Can't help but make a bee-line toward the gleam -
Love to sit on a stoop beneath it,
rush toward its shine on the seat of a bus
my own musical chairs.
Morning prize
to sit on it,
in it.
To be within it.
Its warmth reminds me, reassures me,
Everything's OK.

It is.

Mother's Day was sweet.
But can't say I didn't wake with that gnawing ache -
The One that shadows on
days like these.
Persistent pain that nudges and tugs -
pulls at my shirt tails, slows my step...
Asking asking, disbelieving,

Where is the man that gave me the girl?

The Girl
that leans on appliances and tells me the earth is round,
that the North Pole is real,
the sun is fire.
Loves the scent on my wrist, breathes it to calm her down.
Informs me that Flamingo knees bend backward,
makes predictions,
and tells me "the message" of a story...
Says "that's not really my thing" as she selectively shops,
mutters Jesus Christ under her breath
and sleeps late only on weekdays.

Oh how she makes living so very worthwhile.

And then I am reminded of everyone I've got,
and know his shadow need not be dark.
He's the one that stumbles my sandals on the sidewalk cracks,
but makes sure I don't fall through.
Shakes me softly out of my stupor - as I shuffle through petals,
that paint the ground pink.
Such beauty in this Mother's Day haze.
And then it's Adam's hands I reach for, that hold mine tight.
Steady my heart, make me feel alright.

This was not the motherhood I had imagined,
but it is beautiful, all the same.

SpringTime.

Winter's gradually giving in,
still straining to chill, fighting for time,
with gasps of raindrops and wind.
But Spring will win, any day...
Better
Be
Soon.

April is Here.

Thankfully, we got a dose of sun.
A visit to Ca. softened our shoulders,
loosened our stride.
Lily got to see her Grandpa,
over eighty years between the two...
So much love I feel between them,
and yet
the
guilt
I
feel
to have someone
that she
does
not.
It is a
kind of
connection
she can't know -
but still searches for,
hopeful
she
might.

The other night she slipped me a note,
her newest mode of communication.
I am glad she is able to find other homes
for her words.
I know that need,
the urge
to put them
somewhere
else.

I love you Daddy.  I love you to the moon and back.
You make everyday better.

She is big on note writing these days.
I now have a considerable
Apology Series,
always delivered surreptitiously -
little
white
flags
announced by the rustle-fuss underneath my door.
Like dollars for a vending machine, uncreased then flattened
just-right-enough,
coaxed through to my side.
Eyes waiting to see them pulled within.

But she enjoyed our family visit.
Fed the carp, played at the beach.
Reconnected with her California Best
in teacups, over boat ride plunges and Small World wonderment,
Hi Madeleine!! she yelled over her shoulder
craning to see ahead as she
wove drove our auto on a Disney stretch -
invisible trailing scarf, cap and goggles donned.
Then we all relished in desert dry and a Palm Springs pool,
sunny days and windy nights,
topped off by a hotel ruled by blunt bangs and tatooed cool.
This is a Ricky Ricardo room, mama,
alluding to the tropical feel.
Sure, I said.

She had a point.
Usually does.
Most always punctuated by Basically and Seriously?

Finally home to NYC,
just in time
for her
first
tooth
loss.
Excitement beyond adventure, sugar or friends.
Even trumped the back-to-winter-blues..
Aged a few years by her new-tooth-gap.
Her Parking Space, I call it.

But even the Space has a new one poking through.

New shoot heralding Spring.

Balloon. Six.

Lily is SIX.
Been wearing a sequined sweater six for months,
been wiggling the tooth,
riding horses with fearless intention,
skiing happily, hands pocketed as though she were casually
gliding down a mountain.

Not sure where her confidence comes from,
it is a facet of her that is all hers...
Not from her dad, not from her mama,
this quality is homegrown.
Sprouted
out
of
Self.

She celebrated her birthday with closest family and pals,
her best gift a collection of "Daddy Stories" solicited from his oldest and dearest friends.
Just last night she ripped a turning page by accident,
studying it with her night-lite
(another birthday gift for the-girl-who-now-can-read)
in bed
on
her
own.

With six came words like
Graffiti
and
Prediction,
expressions like
"I rather prefer"
and
"That doesn't make sense" and "oh my god! That's so crazy".

"Mama, I'm going to make a prediction...  When Ricky sees Lucy he's going to say 'aye yay yay'"

And with that, I say the same.

As her birthday afternoon came to a close,
she and I rode in a taxi with her best buddy since birth,
on our way for more play,
red balloon in hand.

I want to let it go into the sky Mama, when we get home.
OK I said, so happy to celebrate her life, yet wistful with gentle ache,
knowing the wish that I knew was to come.

So there we stood on the sidewalk,
make a wish her friend said,
but don't tell us or it won't come true...
I know what it is she exclaimed with a wide wide smile,
as she released her bright red balloon into the pure blue sky.
Together we watched it soar up, up, up!

I wished that Daddy would come back to life!

Maybe he will, Lily, her old friend said - also hopeful in early life -
supporting her dreams as
Dear
Friends
Do

no Pumpkin, I said softly (my least favorite truth), that's a beautiful wish -
but unfortunately he can't come back.
But his Spirit is here with us, in our hearts...

I know, she said..

Maybe even closer, he said.

And with that we went into the building.

Long. Live. Love. (Soaring Spirits)

Finally made it -
Camp Widow it's called, special place, special people -
Air rich with understanding,
hallway conversations with unnamed people -
introductions hardly needed.
Everyone just gets
it.
Beautiful,
universal-understanding
of what
this loss
is.
How easily I identify with instant tears.
Our hearts are all indelibly linked.
Never thought my first visit would be to share my own approach to honoring
people we love...
But I did it.

I did it.

And it felt good, so good,
to support others moving forward with their kids,
while always glancing back.

Gave Lily a commemorative tile I had made

I wish Mary Poppins was here so we could jump into it, Mama,
Yes, I know Pumpkin - wouldn't that be the best?
How did he get sick?
That's a good question, I just don't know -  I wonder that too -
Even the doctors aren't sure, so they're doing lots of science projects to figure it out.
He couldn't be breathed in?
No, Pumpkin, that wouldn't have helped.  Not for his kind of sick.
Like Dr. Martin Luther King - I wish they had breathed in him and then he could be alive.
Yes, Pumpkin, I agree.

Remarkable how many warriors exist today -
Strong children, strong parents -
So many who have lost so much,
Spouses,
Spouses with children,
Sons and daughters.
Athletes of the heart where you just keep
pushing
on...
Pushing on through.
And to think I joined this weekend with Another Love
by
my
side.
Another remarkable aspect of this surprising life.
Thought my longing and loneliness was terminal -
but I can gratefully say it wasn't so.
There were others there who have also found new partners
and they're all navigating with love and hope and respect.
Such
an inspiring
crowd.


And Alan was there -
Saw him on the sailboat,  and in the nautical knots,
the bar monkey murals...
He even played a song on the rental car radio.

Felt good to know he was
with us too.

2015. (Girl meets river.)

New Year is here, it's a cold slow start,
dry winds, not enough snow.
Indifferent Winter days, push us indoors,
while bare trees outside stand stiffly and wait.

But Lily keeps the days turning,
She's advancing on me, an affront of opinions
and curious inquiries.
Life talk, body talk, death talk.
Eyes wide open, every dawn, her words spill out
as though they had been locked up since the night before.

How I love my loose toothed whirling dervish.
Keeps me on my toes.
Nearing Six, she's so twelve.

Just recently we passed a cemetery - I explained what it was.
She liked the headstones.
Can we get one of those for Daddy? She asked.
Well, Pumpkin... and then came the explanation I had shared with her in my mind
over
and over
and over again:

When people get old, (or very, very sick)
sometimes they decide when they die they want to be buried in the ground.
Other people would rather they be made into a special dust that you can scatter
in special places
that that person really loved.
It sounds weird,
but since when bodies are dead they can't feel anything,
so there is no pain,
they use a special fire that burns the bodies into ashes like a special dust.
And they put the dust into a container and then we can sprinkle them
in special places
like
rivers,
or ocean,
or softball fields.

Looking out the window,
Where do they get burned?

In special ovens.
But even though the bodies get burned,
they don't feel anything,
because when a person dies, their body can't feel anything.

Have you seen that? Who does it?

No, I haven't seen that, Pumpkin,

Special people do that and then once the ashes/dust are in the container they give them to us.

But how do they get them out of the oven?

Um...  I think they use a special shovel to get them out carefully.

Silence.  Contemplation.  More backseat questions.

There was a Charlie Brown episode about that!  

Like Snoopy or Charlie Brown got dead or something, 

and they burned him into special dust and then they sprinkled it.

It was funny, she said.

With that, she put those big ideas

into an animated, happy, contemplative place in her mind.

And heart.

So proud of her I am.  

The way she takes things in, 

digests them, 

wonders about them,

pursues them boldly and then places them creatively in her thoughts.

We call it "Daddy Dust".

Now she asks others if they know about it.

Just last week she asked to see some.

So with her fingers that are shaped 

just 

         like

                    his,

she gently put them in the box

and 

touched 

him 

with 

her hands.

Weird, she said.

Can I have dessert Mama?

(smile)

So brave how she goes straight to the water.

Confronts the river.

Dips her toes,

and then walks away.

Anniversary

Lucky I am..
Today
marks
One.
One (plus 24).
Last year someone I once knew,
came to me
in a different
Light.
And this year, despite the unexpected wrong,
it manages to feel
wondrous and right.
This other, special, Love.

I told you about him, Alan, I did.

So many turns to navigate...
No map, ever, for this unexpected road - 
the scenery still flashes silhouettes
that hope-trick my heart,
mannerisms in other people's shrugs, 
such familiarity in their sideways nods -
and new revelations in family ways,
beautiful to see but surprises all the same...

And I still stumble
through dreams that grapple, confront and plead...
We talk, we cry, we laugh
We are old loves & good friends, you and I,
as I tell you about Our Lily and recount for you our days -
Remember how the other night
I cried to you...
Explained,
and wept-confessed,
reminding us both of the choice that I had faced
the river I had to cross

I could
either
die
with
you,
or
keep
on
living

You nodded,
understood.
I saw it
in your gaze, ahead.

So today, it's One, with Adam.
Lily loves him too.
He came to Wings and Beer, with us -
along with so many of those who continue to love
and celebrate,
and long
for
you.

Jake watched football while Lily fed him fries,
by the end of the evening they were sliding into home
on the barroom floor...
Olivia texted from a corner booth, phone for her book.
Sophie is golden and statuesque, so very far from six.
Steve said it was an All Star turnout...
All Star It Was -
Our family, and your ever endearing friends
even Dr. Keohan
still by your side.
Elizabeth brought us Chunkies,
and the Red Vines came from Chris.

Love from all around.
Adam observed from a quieter spot,
perhaps you shared the view.

You
remain part
of
our
everydays.

 And Adam's joined us all. (listen...)

About Time.

Finally,
Fall.
Had to come - was beginning to cause some ache.
Seasons get me, rock me, pull me,
When I'm in, I'm in, but the getting there is tough.
Like a Summer Adolescence,
at some point,
I need it to be
over.

And October is Alan's month.
Just is.
Blustery cool, wool, and leaves -
a month he could
wrap himself in,
nearly see his breath
as the trees
let
go.

So September slipped right through my fingers.
Lily sauntered off to Kindergarten,
no big deal.
Hardly a look back from this One.
Got the squeeze,
got the kiss,
and then
she let
me
go.
Solid in appearance,
it all makes sense,
the i in her name -
often drawn as its tallest letter ~
Proud spirit,
lanky, steady.
                        Upright Exclamation.

She always was an I.

Nearly fools me with her rock-steadiness.
How do they do that - so young?
Just back from Portland where we celebrated a friend,
shedding his youth with courage and grace.
A weekend full of familial love, it almost was too much…
In a slide show her Dad appeared, I appeared, She appeared -
another flash of who we were but never got
to be.

Beautiful blow to the gut.
Got me then and there.
But took some days,
to dig its way,
to that fragile
soul of hers.

Reached her core though...
And then I am reminded of her tissue paper wings,
thin-as-silk skin,
hummingbird heart -
that gently ever-mourns in its own secluded way.
So delicate, The Knockout Kid.
That's when the DNA really shows - just like her parents,
tough tough shell around feather soft insides.
Reminds me to be extra careful with her heart
as she races round the corner into Autumn.
Recent nights I check on her
and see
she's placed a wedding photo
on a pouf
beside her
bed.

Sometimes we're so close it's hard to see
where I end
and she
begins...
It's the quiet nighttime moments when I can study her as she sleeps
that bring me back to my naivete as a parent.
It is then I see her Self most clearly.
Separate, quiet, journeying mind,
body flanking the entire bed -
securing space around her.
And then I apologize to her,
for forgetting about those
deepest layers
hidden under her daytime cloak -
and shamefully whisper in her ear
that
I'll
do
better
when
the morning
comes.

Lily's Reach

September is rolling up Summer's carpet
Tucking it away in morning shadows
And as much as I mourn our shrinking days
I think I need
to
catch
my
breath..

(Got to make the morning last....)

Beautiful June, July & August ~
Miles of travel,
gravel and sand,
high clouds and roads,
soft, spongy,
moss covered paths.
Arms full of babes, and kids and tweens.
Swings,  swims, henna, challah,
siblings, cousins, dogs and berries.
Aunts and Uncles, daughter mamas,
daughters' moms and two new dogs,
Ca to Maine
Old
to
New
Lobsters, ocean, kayaks, canoe.

Soaring
Bald
Eagles
in treetop lookouts
such ease as they
lift off
and
land...
Must model my moves after them,
as August comes to a close.

This has been my
Summer Of Beautiful Ache
Lily and I have been graced with new family-like friends
Our table more often set for Three
(sometimes even six)

Lily has said Yes to it all
With gusto and glee.

Such Boldness in her Being.

She teaches me as she stretches and grows,
fingertips straining for the highest fruit.

For me,
I grapple with how fortunate I feel
in the lingering tides of loss.
To feel overflowing with Love and Hope
despite that pocket with its
unsewable
hole.
In moments I marvel at how
Lucky
I
Am,
then wonder how it can be -  as the thread gets pulled.

But maybe,
like the bird
that uses yarn for its nest
the
take
from
the tear
is meant to help...
                                      
Meant to Build

Something
New.

July Day. (Hanging On)

Is this about Daddy or what?
She said, climbing into the car.
What Pumpkin?
Oh nothing.
Half to herself, as she buckled herself in.
And off to an exhibit we went.
So grown up, my Casual Child 

Just an afternoon jaunt
Not about anyone, really...
But in from the outside's hot, close, ocean air
There was a small cool room, with quiet images,
Walt Whitman
watching from the walls
And opposite, Patti read to him, graveside, in the sun.
On flickering film,  easy words
And for a few frames, she looked up, 
in
on
him, through protective bars -
commented on the weather, how perfect the day was...
smiling
a sweet connection spoken from one spirit to
another
conversing with him, she was
an all knowing, never-ending dialogue between two.

There is no one I've ever observed that seems to capture
loss and ever presence the way She does.
And when she spoke to him
it was an exchange I knew so well.
Recognized.
Because we still talk
and smile
and exchange thoughts.
There are so many ways
they
can
still
be
here.

I was grateful
that she reached
Out
Raised his eyes,
Acknowledged his Listen.

Lily drew quietly under his gaze,
with a sweet friend by her side,
handed me her work,
ran out for a peach.

But later I asked
What did you think of the exhibit?
It was fine, she said, and then an afterthought:
                                                
Peaceful.

In her hand a chalky white rock,
a dusty take-away from Rockaway.
Not about Daddy, for her at least,
but a piece of
remembrance
all the same.

A

A
is for
Adam,
Adam after Alan
Alan Always In My Heart
Adam Right Beside Him

Alan knew he'd someday Appear,
The Merry Widow
he'd tease me
But perhaps because of my broken heart,
He sent Another
To love me

Whatever it is or was he planned
that brought
Another Love
to know me,
He knew there was a Little Girl
Who also needed holding.

So then came Adam,
after Alan
With a heart and arms
for Two
Gave himself to both of us
As if he always knew

And though the Ache
for October Alan will never go away,
I thank him for Our Adam
Who's with us now today.

Ladybug (He Watches Over) / Father's Day

I think

I know
There was a moment
when I was with Alan,
conversing with words you hope to never exchange

and somewhere in

there,

in the air that
floats
around words,
I lightly said
I will think of you
whenever I see
Ladybugs...

Of course,
I think of him always
as he knew
I
would -
but ever since,
they have
                                  appeared
in perfect moments

in moments so poignant
it's as though they're choreographed.

For years, they have.

Almost six.

And every time I stop.
Shake my head.
Smile.
And think, couldn't be,
could it?
Until the next time it happens, again.
And then,
I know.
It was.
The last time, it was he.

So yesterday when loving fingers
placed a ladybug in
Lily's hands,
I shook my head and smiled.
Couldn't be,
I thought.

It's not Tomorrow yet.

But then tonight a moving shadow lifted my gaze,
Up
to the moulding on our living room wall.
And sure enough
There was Another, flicker crawling, lit from below.
Quick flits, fluttering wings, fleetingly present.
So now I know,
he was there
Yesterday.
And came back today
to
remind
me.

Rain. (really?)

Sometimes
I just want to paint myself
Out
of a dark dark day
Red and pink myself into
Another
Picture
Where life is
Easy
for just one
moment
And if my hard is someone else's fantasy
Then give me someone else's hard.
Because I
Could
Use
Some
Inspiration
and some
Soulful Peace -
for
a
good
long
while
.

Cousin Love & Blues

Lily's Cousins breezed into town.
Their dad in tow,
our house was instantly full
Blankets, pillows, sheets carpeted the floors
For a week our tiny home was crowded with family
The
Best
Kind

Never imagined my brother and I would get to see our children play
Siblings For a Week,
Lily got her fix
Though she could never get enough of those two,
Ever.

Addison!
and
Simone!

Like adjectives, those two.
Names always spoken with revelatory urgency.

Hugs and more hugs,
tubs and more tubs.
One More Minute! 
The-Visit-Motto-Every-Evening-Plea.
Meals, dance, play and gospel
Indian and Harlem, playgrounds, streets and grass
So much for us all to take in.

Got to show them off at school,
My Cousins she calls them.
Shared them with our East Coast Half

Brought them by our Bench.
Uncle Alan's Bench.
And as I walked away with my brother,
arms wrapped around each others' backs
Jesus, he said,
You've been through a lot.

Nodded. Half smile.

I have, but we both have.
And we've never left each others' sides.

All knowing feeling we both share.
Lives like music -
Up and ups and way down downs
though now it wafts and floats.
Our tunes are better these days.

But this morning's gusts have flown them away
taking them home
to the Other Coast.
A slightly blue morning,
for me and my girl.
Full full hearts with a touch of tug.

Happily we will see them again.
Can't help but return again to this feel good song,
from our wedding day some time ago,
Always feels so right.
Because
this is
Our 
Family.

Full Speed Ahead.

Spring is nearly here.
Tried yesterday but got pummeled by pushy cold winds still fighting for Winter.
But the sun is strong and my girl and I are ready,
like horses on a steady gallop,
still feeling fresh out of January's gate.
Goodbye, March, Fleeting Spring is on its way with Summer close behind.

Got some warmth on a family trip to the DR,
Where Lily's beloved Tia and all of her family have their roots.
Beautiful, deep roots.
Young and old they took us in, embraced us, cooked for us, hosted us.
Lily doted on a baby, ran circles in the garden with Andrea and Javi -
Happily conversing in English and Spanish -
Communication always easy, simple delight in running together,
shared smiles, all knowing laughs - no words needed.
We beached, swam, fed horses, rode donkeys,
relished in warm sun, balmy breezes,
Refueled as a family,
a much needed respite.

Then back we came, and I had a quick escape,
a test for both me and my babe-no-more.
Took a brief trip with Another Love,
a new one,
a
first
for me
in a
long
time.

Very long time.

And a day that I thought might never come again.

Lily and I did just fine -
though the pangs were felt from far away.
Growing pains for the two of us,
we're both still reeling.

But in this life,
Change is Good.

So off together we go, on an unfamiliar yet inspiring road.
I think we can,
I
Know
We
Can.
But it's a test for the two of us,
attached at the hip
and
heart.

So this weekend, we're regrouping.
And we're doing OK.
I think we're both ready for New York's
Two
Week
Bloom
when the trees are in their glory for one short, deep breath.

Hibernation days are over.

So
bring
on
the
pink,

please.

She. Five.

Lily is Five.
Not sure how it happened but it did and she has stepped into the role boldly.
Three pieces of gum before 9am were reward for a remarkable two year campaign,
this girl knows that persistence pays off...

Her weekend was loaded with endless devotion,
An Annie themed party, new friends and old ones,
very extended family and Alan's dearest friends,
and their kids,
to bolster
the day
even
more.
It was a great day, to quote the now, very overplayed
Fresh Beat Band.

As always, I could still hear the gentle echo,
Alan's aunt's wavering whisper from when we cut the cake on her very first birthday -
just a few years back,

He should be here...

But our family rallied as they always do, and
Everyone
Helped,
Loved,
Celebrated.
Lily's betrothed wore his Yankees jersey in honor of his Uncle Alan,
and a beloved building worker and friend who knew Alan well,
showed up with a Yankees jersey for this big little girl.

Jeter.
White on blue.
The Real Deal.

Gave me a happy ache to see her put it on.

Sunday was rounded out
with a much needed trip to our bench -
piles of hardened snow at its feet,
we warmed it with
our adoring kisses. 
Then off to see The Lion King.
Not a far fetched combination, I discovered.

Such
A
Beautiful
Show

As it neared the end - to the swell of
He Lives In You,
it
all
made
sense.
Why we were there...
I think I needed it this weekend, more than she.
Its message, our very own mantra -
went straight to my heart...
And as I leaned over to softly note the connection in Lily's ear,
it felt good to know that she understood
its meaning
all
too
well.

(listen)