THINKIN' ABOUT YOU...

Hey Sweets. Been thinking about you a lot these past few days. As the years pass an odd thing seems to be happening. Things seem to get easier and more difficult at the same time. 

Been trying to grab onto tiny pieces of happy lately. A little Christmas duck that lights up when you float him in water. LED star lights for the livingroom. A few hours alone at the Cafe with a gingerbread latte and a good comic book. 

Often wonder if you would read comic books by now? Would you think my taste in comix was old fashioned or weird? What would be your favorite series? 

Nan was here earlier tonight. She mentioned that when her son was growing up, she kept him suitably armed with lots of caps. First his favorite was Superman, of course. But then the cape turned Goth or Renaissance, you know? I wondered. Would you have been a cape kid, too? 

There have been a fair share of down days and sleepless night lately, too. General restless, "What the heck am I doing with my life?" stuff. I wondered if you would have kept me too busy to be sleepless? Or would my insomniac wrestles have spilled over into my parenting? 

It's all questions, isn't it? Pointless ones at that. But it's the way I think about you sometimes. Whisps of wondering. Seems that's all that's left now. 

Though I admit to looking at the clipping of your hair the other night. And then spending days dreaming up a good comic book plot about a bereaved mother who take her dead son's hair clipping to have his DNA made into a clone. And the cloned son is born with superpowers. You know, a good old fashioned Saga, comix style. 

Anyway... 
just love you, my dear. And missing you yet again for this holiday season. 

xoxoxo 
Love, Mom

Weddings...

The Wedding and Reflections
by Kara L.C. Jones

Photo left: Copyright 2008 by Hawk Jones/Kotagraph, The Wedding Dress

We headed out a few weeks ago for a mini-marathon trip. One of our stops was back East for my goddaughter's wedding. Hawk did the photography for everything: engagement, rehearsal, ceremony, family, reception. It was amazing to be a part of their big event in this way. To play the role of conscious witness capturing images while the days whizzed by so very quickly.

As we met up with various friends and family members, I heard myself talking with cousins I haven't seen for years and years. People who've never met my husband ever. I was telling them we'd been married for 10 years. One of my cousins mentioned she'd been married 23 years. The dj played an anniversary dance asking people who'd been married 10, 15, 20, 25, 30, 40+ years to come on the floor and do a slow jig. It was amazing to see how quickly time passes.

To see my eldest goddaughter at the start of her marriage. To see my younger goddaughter in the middle of her college days. And then to see how fast 10 years of marriage have passed in my own life. To realize 10 years have passed since your birth and death, Kota.

It goes so fast. Capturing images, making art, writing. These are all parts of playing witness to my own life. I was honored to play a small part of doing that for my goddaughter. And it made me realize that all my own, Capricorn-like tendencies toward reviewing my trunk of journals or stacks of artwork are all about trying to chart this Journey. Trying to make sense of time that flies too fast. It isn't that I want to live in the past. It is that the present moment goes so fast I sometimes need more time to integrate what has happened.

As I'm facing re-entry back here upon our return from the mini-marathon, I find I need more time. More time for everything. More time to integrate what happened on the trip. More time to be present each day. More time going slow. More time to create and be. More time for music.

I've said it before, but it is worth repeating.

I don't necessarily mean that I need Earth days to expand to 72 hours -- though that would be nice. I do mean that I need more -- more authentic, more present. I want more meaningful work. I want more days full of consciousness. I want more days in the pool. :)

What can I say? Weddings do this to me. I can't stop reflecting...
I can't stop missing you.

Landed in the 'Burgh

We walked through security toward baggage claim and there was an announcement and handwritten sign posted: "Halftime, Steelers 3, Ravens 13". People moaned, out loud, in a group expression. I suddenly knew I was not in Kansas anymore, Toto, but rather home in the 'Burgh, land of the Terrible Towel. We managed to get thru town well before the end of the game, and even got back here to Memoo's in time to see the Steelers win, so all is well. :)

This is wedding week central here. My oldest goddaughter, your cousin Kristin, is getting married, and in honor and tribute to my Mimi, my goddaughter's grandmother, I have to tell you she has baked over 700 cookies in the last few weeks!!! Mimi's yummy delights will not be revealed until wedding day. Rumor has it there will be two kinds of biscotti, pizzelles, lady fingers, peanut butter balls, tea knots, and more. So much for giving up sugar!! Well, for this week anyway.

Last week at conference actually proved to be pretty easy to stay away from sugar and find good options other than wheat. I had only one truly loopy day there. And things here in the 'Burgh could be easy-ish, too, but I'm simply making exceptions. We don't often have the chance for real Italian food and Mimi's cookies! And since I don't know how to make her cookies -- I don't know if any of us in the next generations of the family do! -- it always feels like a yummy chance I don't want to miss. And maybe a gateway to the touchstones of a long ago (possibly over romanticized) :) childhood.

Also thinking a lot about life's transitions and joy and grief and how it all seems to come in one breath. You know, Kota, that Mimi's husband died a few years ago. We all adored Unkie. Mimi says if she could have custom ordered a husband, she'd not have done as well as she did when she got Unkie. He was a good being. A treasure. And though I don't know how often Mimi expresses it, she misses him terribly. At dinner she was a little teary. "We had 53 wonderful years together. He was so good. I didn't deserve a man as good as he was," she says. And then she mentions that while she's glad to hear I dream of him and his cousin dreams of him, she fears her crying keeps his spirit away from her. She's never had a single dream of him. She heard a wives tale that said crying keeps the souls of loved ones from us. Oh, my heart breaks.

I tried to assure her that was not true. I tried to tell her I've cried much since you died, Kota, and you've come to me in dreams. Tried to assure her that crying is an expression of love. But it is a tale that seems to be ingrained. My meager protests don't sink in past the layers of the old wives. So I tell her that when I dream about Unkie next, I'll tell him to go see her! And heck, at this time of year with the veil so thin, I think I may make some of my Day of the Dead rituals dedicated to asking him to go see her for goodness sake! Kota, if you are there and so is Unkie, could you let him know, too? Can't hurt for him to hear it from multiple voices. It's the only thing I can think to do to try and give Mimi comfort. Well, besides just letting her talk and cry as much as she wants, to give her that without judgement or reserve. She's such a good person. Amazing really. Her life is so interesting. She has always been present and so filled with grace and good.

Heck, I figure, if nothing else, the woman baked 700+ cookies this month even with her bad knee and hurt hip, she deserves the miracle of a dream from Unkie! You hear me, Uncle Henry??! Just visit with her, okay?!

Now for the merry wedding!

Next up is wedding goodness. We have lots of family coming, dinners, visits, rehearsal, wedding, photo taking, etc. Father of the bride was down with the flu today. Been sending Reiki for healthy vibes for Father of the bride to be well and to keep all others healthy, too!

Got to chat with Kris and Nathan tonight about photos. See your dad is doing all the photography for them. Think it will be fun and can't wait to see Hawk's vision for them. They had lots of ideas and made a great checklist for us to see all the kinds of shots they hope to get. Praying for clear, cool weather so we might take advantage of outside, natural light. Maybe hit a park or two for bridal party photos. We'll see.

Anyway, got to see their new home and meet their kitty-cat for the first time tonight. It's so crazy to be seeing her in her grown up life. I remember a beautiful baby girl. I was madly in love with her and had the greatest summers looking after her when I was a teenager. When she was two, she would go around the house opening drawers and taking all the stuff out of them. It was the funniest quirk. I remember teaching her to swim and hanging out in the pool with her for hours on sunny afternoons. Gosh, it seems like yesterday and a million years ago at the same time. And all those memories make me a little wistful for all the memories you and I don't have, Kota.

And I have to wonder, when will I return to the 'Burgh next after this? Will it be for the baptism of her babies?

Meditating on the Now

Must admit it is a very challenging practice to stay in the NOW while I'm here. So many memories and touchstones floating around. Things rise to the surface, and I'm not sure what they are or from whence they came. It is a revolving carousel of then, now, to be. Maybe part of it is that I'm still a bit loopy, too? Not sure my body has caught up with all the travel and time changes.

Tried to stay present and hold the hands of the people I love throughout the day today. Made every effort to be present at every bite of yummy home town goodies. Really felt the comfort of my goddaughter's home as she made us all feel so welcome and loved. And so grateful to Memoo and Jeppy, your grandma and grandpa, for hosting us, opening their home including letting me do laundry, having Mountain Dew on hand for Mr. Hawk, and giving us such a cozy landing spot to sleep and process.

Talents in our family...

It often strikes me that I wonder if you would have had a singing voice like your dad, and musical talent like your brother Peter.

Someone once asked me, "If you could have any talent or ability, what would it be?" Answer:

Anything. I wish I could sing. Just anything. Opera. Jazz. Folk songs. Lullabye. Anything. I wish I could open my mouth and hear something in tune and lovely flow out from my heart, from my mood, from my core.

I wish I could sing a classic like One For My Baby and have it sound swingin'. I wish I could sing a Weepies tune or Joan Osborne tune and sound like a GRRRL singer. Or how about a Cindy Lauper or Luscious Jackson tune. Or just to sing out when grief really hits me.

But nooooooooooooooooo. I'm flat. I'm tuneless. Hopeless. Not to mention scared and unable to just open my breath and let anything flow. It comes out all raspy, uptight, and griping.

Ah, well. I guess as long as your dad is willing to put up with my tuneless screeching in the shower, that's good enough and will have to serve my musical longings. But it still crosses my mind now and again, wondering what your singing voice would have been like, Kota. I miss you.

DAKOTA'S TEXTURED ANGEL...

March 11, 1999 
4:47pm 
Born and died 

It is a very odd thing to give birth to death. I was prepared for an entirely different experience. Prepared from the time of sex education class in 6th grade all the way thru birth preparation class 6 weeks before the due date. The books, the parenting magazines, the nursery furniture catalogues, the meetings with obs and doulas, the sonograms, hypno-birthing sessions. It's all about life. Giving birth to life. Which of course is just right for some huge percent of the population. 

Just wasn't right for my percent of the population. 

And truth be told, even if you had tried to prepare me for giving birth otherwise, I would have laughed in your face. I mean this isn't a third world country. I don't have any compromising diseases. We certainly didn't the quality of healthcare that a wealthy family might buy, but we weren't getting our pre-natal care at a street clinic either. Ha ha in your face. Are you joking? That's what I would have said. 

When you stand on the bricks in the Red Tent, it isn't until death is actually issuing forward from your womb that you realize you are nothing in this equation. You are simply a portal between life and death. Sometimes the portal spills out in an oxygen, star filled, thriving, living planet. Sometimes the portal spills out in landscape of Mars where there may once have been life, hidden in those ancient ice crystals, but there is no human breathing there now. 

At 4:47pm on Thursday afternoon, March 11th, 1999 at 47.71472 latitude and -122.33472 longitude, a portal opened thru me and I gave birth to death. 

Today, Nine Years Later 

And so today we move through the ninth anniversary of this space age event. I've touched down in the gravity of homelessness, prosperity, travel to new lands, artistic endeavors, meditation explorations, mental and emotional dysfunction of one family, the support and love of the other functional family, and a zillion other experiences. 

It has not been a linear path by any means. I've danced round and round, slowing finding a way, integrating the paradox of birth and death into this one being. 

I know now there is no way to truly know that experience. Anything I think I know is simply ego. Any experience or thoughts I glom onto with fervent passion are just ego. There is no religion, politics, academy of study, philosophy or psychology that isn't anything more than ego. It isn't good or bad. We can't really shake away from ego. It's part of the human experience. But there is something beyond ego.

There is witness. 

And this witness has stayed with me through it all. It allows me to value both Dakota's life and death and the spiritual rebirth of the other-worldly entity also named Dakota. It allows me to value all the extremes of marriage, the blessings, the mundane, the ugly, the love, the feel of a partner who has seen the depths with me. It allows me to gleefully watch the life and growth of our living children and grandchildren while never diminishing the place any deceased child holds within a family structure. It allows me to understand the value of time we have when alive -- with my husband, my mother, my friends -- and to full acknowledge the time that will come when they and I will no longer be alive -- and to have no fear about that at all. 

And so today... 

there is nothing here for you today except witness. 

A textured angel whose every bump marks what it sees. 

If you have someone or something you wish to witness outloud, too, feel free to leave a comment here today. You do not witness alone either. 

Miracles, 
k-