Sanctuary

From when I was nothing
in the moment I became

something

cells breaking into building into me.

From nowhere
somewhere
where
I came into your hiding place.

my sanctuary.

In a moment that
not even you knew
a silent burst of me
from dream to being
I was held in warmth

soft
love
red
dark
you.

my sanctuary.

In a secret not even you yet knew
your body my walls
my buffer
protected me from all that might harm
as I grew
from a something
into a something
into a something

new

my becoming
certain and loved
in

my sanctuary.

As my being grew
larger
able to hear you, feel you, know you.
The walls whispering that I might have
to soon leave
and see where it is that I came.

Violence and tumult
pushed pulled
forced and longed for and
loved and
coerced
softness gave way to harsh
and soothing darkness to light.
I mourn

my sanctuary.

My passive fish lungs failed
and in a heave of death
this planet blew life into my body.
So confused, wordless questions.
Where
Why
How
Is this the end of

my sanctuary.


Newness of angst in tears
down my tiny face
and in the face of
who's arms
surround and sooth
her breast my nourishment
her skin my clothes
her voice my song
I have fallen in love with

my sanctuary.

As I learned my boundaries
you were there.
My voice
you were there.
My song
My fears
My pain
you were there.
My growth
you were there.
My art
you were there.
My mistakes
My learning
My falls
you were there.
My wings
you were there.
My leaving
My returning
you were there.
My choices
My hurt
My children
My successes
My risks
My failures
My life
you were there.
My life
you were there.

my sanctuary.

And then, as I had chosen you so many
years before
I chose you again
and I choose you
again.

my sanctuary.

In my heart, you began to release
the stronghold that you have always had
on life.  On yours. On mine.
In slow steady moments lost to forever
I have watched you take steps
away from
who I have always known you to be.
I long for

my sanctuary.

As I sit close to you
and hold your hand.
As I hold close the you that you will always be to me.
I love you more than I
ever thought
possible.

and I know
beyond any shadow
that

You will always

be


my sanctuary.

Mother's Day

Mother's Day

I've always said that days that are calendar-ized are
man made. Meaning given not by life, but by someone else.
Yet, they come around as the sun rotates and I feel air as my butt finds metaphorical earth
after my legs are kicked out from under me.

I feel silly being public about missing my mother.
You get it.  I say it enough.
She's been gone for 37 years.
Get over it.  How much can it actually pain me at this point?

Sometimes I want to ask myself those very things.

and much of the time, it doesn't hurt.  but then a day comes
and the calendar says that we are all to sit and think about
our mothers.

And I can.  I do.  I am.

She was so beautiful.
Everybody loved her. That's what everyone says.
She was likable.
She was talented. She was loved.
I didn't have her very long.  My sister had her for even less time.
And I don't have a lot of memories.

I remember her making dinner when American Pie was on the radio
as Carrie and I sat at the round table with the bright yellow vinyl table cloth
waiting. The walls were wallpapered with yellow zig zag fabric.

I remember her hair. It was so pretty and simple.  Her face so warm and pretty.
She didn't have to try hard at all to look that way.

I remember her making bread dough ornaments with us in the kitchen for Christmas.
We sat at the Shakey's table in the breakfast nook.

I remember eating spaghetti at that same table. The whole family.  Candles were lit
for ambiance. Could that be why I'm so nuts about soft lighting?

I remember snippets of more.  The memories are like snapshots that I might find in one of the almost too faded and worn by years gone by to really be able to look at anymore photo albums.

She was a good mom.
Maybe I don't have enough data to know that for sure, but for 10 years, she was a really good, warm, loving, all-in mom.  It broke her heart that she knew she would die when we were young. It still breaks mine.

There is more to Mother's Day.

I have a step mother, Maxine,  that has been a lovely and stable presence in my life since I was 12.  I have aunts that I love like mothers. I have Anna, who is as much like a daughter to me as I will ever have. I never met my mother-in-law; she died when Eric was 21. I have a step-mother-in-law who is sweet and lovely.  My sister is an amazing, real mother to Hudson and MyLinh. So many of my best friends are mothers to their heart-filled kids. One of my friend's mother is fading to the unrelenting sorrow of Alzheimer's.
The world is filled with amazing, painful, gone, sick, loving, courageous, tender, nurturing, real, complicated mothers. Just the thought of all of the mother stuff takes my breath away.  In a good, and in a not good way.  All rolled into one deep breath suck.

I have a hard time just saying, "Happy Mother's Day" as a blanket statement.
There is so much wound up in the word mother.
My wish for all of us is that we hold those relationships, those memories, and those feelings close, and give ourselves a break if it's not easy.

I miss you, mom.

Honest

I still think about what it could be like.
If you were someone
that wanted
to have something
worth having.

I still start to plan on calling
and wishing
that we could talk about
what happened.
why.
what if.
I'm sorry.
Let's change it.
I love you.
We can start today.
Yes,
I've always loved you.

I still hurt knowing that it's rarely been you
that reached
or called
or remembered
or tried
or asked for forgiveness
or just made a fucking effort
at
all.

I still wonder what you've been thinking
all of these years.
Why my heart hasn't

mattered     enough    for     you    to     love     me.

Why you haven't reached or called or tried or remembered or taken
responsibility
for the fact that you were
the adult and
it wasn't my job
to keep you in my life.

But I did.

I still long for that feeling
when I was a child
and I looked at your
cool
strong
charming
dazzling smile
intoxicating handsome way
and thought
you'd be there forever.
Just like that.

I still sweep up pieces of my heart
from all of the
days moments years events milestones
that you gave away to someone else
and instead
sat in the dingy tv glow
with your lover in a bottle
while


i


grew


up.


I still wish for the father I always hoped you'd be
and
as the years
stack upon one another like
bricks and boxes and dusty repeats of things I have seen
again and again and again.

I wish
I wonder
I long
I weep
I try to make sense of how you could love me so
little.

and

I wish you didn't make it so easy
to try
to
forget.