The Year of Truth.

Last night I sat next to the man I am married to, the man I have been with since he was a boy - for 32 1/2 years … years! - and I was nervous.  

I felt that familiar tensing on the sides of my neck, the throat tightening, the adrenaline pump.  I let it rush over me.  I rode it out instead of squirming it away, pushing it out, going to get a peanut butter cup to eat it away.  I sat with it.  I breathed through it.  I looked over at him, sitting watching football, and wished for a time-out so that there would be a commercial.  Because I felt so strongly, since the clear voice inside of me whispered in the middle of the night two nights before, What is his Truth? Why was he so upset with you looking through his stuff the other day when he went out for a motorcycle ride because you were arguing over something that you've argued over again and again in your relationship? And for that matter, why does the same thing keep rising up to the top?  And I laid there in the dark, waiting for an answer.  It didn't come. 

But, tonight, it hit me again.  Stronger.  Clearer.  TALK, it whispered.  So I gathered up my Brave, and I dove in.  No time-out had happened on the tv, but I just had to say something.  I asked him if he had any secrets from me.  And he said "No! Where is this coming from?" already aggravated, but I stayed calm.  Clear.  Letting that inner voice steady me.  "I need to know, I need us to be healthy.  To NOT have secrets anymore."  And he was squirmy and his physical self was moving to a defense, even though something held him steady, and looking straight into my eyes.  He was almost smiling.  As if some part of him was in there encouraging my inner self to keep going, to be real, to do this thing called True Connection.  He broke eye contact and tried to look at the football game, and bring up that we all have secrets, everybody does (something we've stopped at and agreed upon in the past, just to get beyond the uncomfortable Truth and dealing with all that that entailed, so we could slide back into comfortably numbness), but tonight I was not having it.  I just knew deep inside that I needed to make the line between us crystal clear, or as clear as we could possibly get in these human bodies of ours.  We have come so far in these 32 years.  OMG, SO FAR.  But right now, I felt completely sure that I wanted no more of the Same Old.  Over it.  

2016?  The Year of Truth.  I believe that with all my heart. Everything needs to come out, get clear, be told, be seen.  

And so, he tried to get up and leave the room, to squirm it away, but then something stopped him.  I was just so calm and sure, telling him that I only want this for us, even though he tried to bring up some incident that happened like, 18 years ago, that we've been over more times than I can count, as a last ditch effort for me to drop it - these tactics usually work.  Either we get into an argument over the old thing, or we argue about HOW we argued about the old thing, or we just let it all go because omg, why?  And is this even worth it?  But what is NOT worth it to me right now is that same thing.  That thing that sticks us to the same old life.  The same cycle.  I am not interested in playing that game anymore.  In living in that old paradigm.  I am interested in truth and authenticity.  In being real.  If I can't do it with my own partner, in my own life, in my own gut and heart, how can I expect anything at all to change in the world?

He sat on the edge of our bed, and looked at me.  Into my blue green eyes with his big brown cow-eyes.  Open.  And we talked about our truth, and the last little bit of what was between us.  Which Thank the Universe was not anything big, and totally normal, and when I asked if he felt weird about anything, he said no.  He is happy with himself and I am happy with myself and we have nothing to hide.  I think the thing that got him was when I asked him if he died tomorrow, and I was cleaning out his things, would I find anything that would surprise me or hurt me in some way.  Truly, I said that.  And he stopped and thought about it and didn't want that to be.  I am proud of myself.  I feel light.  I am proud of him.  He feels good too.  We hugged deeply and felt the energy flow between us.  Clear.  When he kissed me goodnight a while later, it was sweet and full.  We both slept so well.

He texted me this morning saying "Good morning, love. Thank you for wanting to and making our relationship better.I love you and want the same. It's uncomfortable for me sometimes, and that's where my angst comes from. I love you and want the best for our relationship."

 Truth has legs; it always stands. When everything else in the room has blown up or dissolved away, the only thing left standing will always be the truth. Since that's where you're gonna end up anyway, you might as well start there. 
-Rayya Elias

synchronicity. magic. mandorla. kairos.

I am doing my best lately to keep up with the magic and the cray, lol.  It sounds funny (it IS funny), but it is just ALL overlapping so much these days.  Which I love.

So my dear heart friend Flo called me yesterday and I was busy looking into the seriously mind bending, huge, grayblue eyes of a two-month-old baby.  Literally getting lost in them, and seeing the Universe swish and sway.  So I didn't answer.  I had a feeling -- like I always do -- that she would call that day too.  I love that she did.  The crazy connection we have is not really 3dimensional, so it's cool that the confirmation of that just keeps coming.  Anyway -  I knew I would call her back today, and that it would be perfect, so I did.  The first thing she says when she picks up the phone is "There you are." and giggles.  It's adorable, truly.  So I reply, "Here I am!  There you are!" and we laugh.  It breaks the ice, brings us down into the 3D where we really don't live, at least most of our relationship we don't.  We met online, on a very crazy magical website, where so many outrageous things happened and so many relationships bloomed, that it just could not (was not) a fluke.  Or coincidence.  Not that I believe in coincidence anyway, but that's a whole other topic.

She starts off slowly and a little timidly, saying gently to take what it is that I want to, to feel into what resonates with me, but that she has something to share.  I am immediately excited, so I say "Yay! Go for it", and she starts with "Oprah has this book club, and she just made a new book choice…" and I immediately cut in with "Oh my god, I LOVE Glennon! I have followed her for a while, I'm already half-way done with the book!" and she is laughing saying "Oh, my GOD." and we fly into the book and how amazing it is, how opening and full of truth, and she says "YES! I was reading it and all day kept thinking 'Call Beth!' because it reminded me of YOU.  How YOU write, and your message of authenticity and how much real life good juicy stuff you have to share, and your family, your kids, your long marriage … just ALL OF IT." and I am laughing and saying thank you, and genuinely, genuinely feeling it, because I so admire Glennon and her unique style of I'm sharing my real self with you all, like a girlfriend would, I love her writing so much that I had already signed up for a writing class that she and Brene Brown are giving next week.  I mean, see??  See the magic and the synchronicity and the fine line that connects it all?  Everything.  By some golden gossamer string.  Connected.

So here we are right now, an hour post that call, and I am grateful.  To be seen for my gifts, my writing, my heart, my knowing.. That I have something to SHARE with the world that is real and heartfelt and true.  And it gives me encouragement and so I begin.  The hundred somethings (#100Somethings) begins NOW.  I write daily for one hundred days.  Whether they get published or not, I'm not sure … but today … The Adventure Begins :)

LOVE. <3 nbsp="" p="">


mishmash. and 100Somethings.

Autumn ... it's definitely turned here. we are in fullon Fall mode.  cool wetter weather.  sweatshirts and sweaters.  i even made pumpkin muffins this weekend 😄

We had a nice long Labor Day weekend, albeit fairly uneventful.  Duncan did manage to manifest himself $$ on Sunday so he can pay for his classes that are college-level & AP exams, which was cool (a gift from his grampa).  Then, talking to Elsa about it, we mentioned that we should maybe fly to DE and do Thanksgiving there ... a random fun talk with the kids and i mentioned it later to C while we were out having cocktails & appies together and really nice minidate, and i get home to a note from my sweet stepmom saying "How do you feel about coming here for turkey day?" lmao.  She wrote almost exactly at the same time the kids & i were talking about it! *lepoof*  Magic is out in full force. {As usual, in more ways than one...}

So, on my way home from said date with Husband, above, I passed up going to Trader Joes and instead followed my heart, which brought me in front of the salty sea at the bottom of our hill, which had The Most Impressive glorious sunrays shining out of the clouds. I snapped some photos and just sat in the radiance for a while.  I noticed that above me (& consequently in some photos) was a Seagull. just hanging out and shining in the sun. So beautiful.

Later, at home with the fam again, I posted a pic on fb and even later still, when C&I were up in bed chillin, a friend wrote to me from fb and shared a deep secret of Love.  Because she saw the heavenly sunburst photo. Honored to be her (& his) witness, and to share in the New Love.  Partly because I had connected with her in the past sharing stuff I felt from her Beloved who passed into NP.  I truly love it when I connect with NP, and am able to bring that to people.  I love the pure freeflowing Magic that streams from that!

And I really love the crazy amazingness that flows from the simplicity of following my heart...


Love family genealogy - C&I were talking about it yesterday. I have been really FEELING the importance of family history, the genetic history that gets passed down in our chromosomes.  How its all a spiral, and how some stories are begging to be healed and closed. Stop the circular motion and create fresh, new, healing lives.

That's BIG. It may not make much sense, but i feel it!!  My gramma's have been encouraging me from NP. Grampa's too. Love them. Listening. Thank you.


oh, here's something else - feeling pulled to being open & taking a few more risks.  Sept always brings up a space in me :: What Now?  Like a time of new beginnings. a new year. Maybe coinciding with school starting, or my birthday ... whatever. It's there, lol. I acknowledge it.  So I decided that I will be leaning IN more. saying yes. taking a few risks. opening more to opportunities.

So... A friend who I don't see often asked if C&I wanted to join her and a handful of her friends {a table of 8}on Sept 18th for a special dinner in Poulsbo, given by a local coffee shop, helping homeless kids who will be the chefs for this dinner (sponsored by the Silverdale Chamber of commerce). I normally would shy away - not knowing the people attending, in a new place, unsure about the food, etc etc etc that my crazy mind can think about, lol. the fear side, right? so I instead just said "YES. Thank you so much for thinking of us" (who knows why she even did! I guess I shall Trust the Universe!) she bought the tickets which were $50/ea OR reserve a whole table of 8 for $400. She said she wanted to do something to honor her father who recently passed in May, who always supported the Youth in our town, and this sounded like the thing to do, that he would like, in lieu of a funeral, which she says he would hate, lol.

so, there ya go. a long stories today ... but NP and Magic and the Universe at work, and I am thinking that this dinner the night before my birthday just might be the perfect heartopening, mystical beginning to my next trip around the Sun.

I am also beginning a 100Somethings project {saw it on Bentinho's page by some girl}  And so, am trying to think of something to do that's unique & meaningful to me for 100 days that will make leading into 2017 the Best Yet.  I journaled about it this morning & am SURE it has something to do with LOVE (duh. my theme) but not sure what/how exactly ... letting it come to me so i can begin soon!! wanna do it too?



As I dropped my two youngest off at their High School this morning, I felt  little off. Not just because my daughter refused to take a first day photo, or my son was not thrilled with the convo about getting a job so he can drive himself. You know, the real stuff that happens in the car with teenagers at 6:50am, among the happy back to school banter and constantly changing radio station.
And I know I usually get a little sad when they go back, and realize how fast the summer flew by, and how time in general is going so fast. These two like to be busy, and this year is already starting to get packed so full. And then, as I drove off, I remembered that this year Isabel Joy would be starting her Senior year...
I had a friend I worked with who delivered her daughter two weeks before Isabel was born. That friend and I no longer speak, we went different ways after I quit the job where we worked together, but I saw a picture of that little girl a few nights ago on fb, now a Senior herself, and so beautiful. I just stared. Trying to picture a different life, one that we never got to live, and tried to imagine what my daughter would look like now too. A Senior. What would she be doing? And planning for? What would she look like? How would our relationship be?
I let the tears come. All I can do is cry. Because I know this about grief. There are time folds, and memories come out of the blue. Even crazy remembrances that never happened in this life, but your heart has held onto because when you lost them, your mind still went through a lifetime together.
So I cry. And at the same time I am unbelievably grateful for my son, the Junior, and his sister, a Sophomore.
Life is so twisty sometimes.
Love all of it.


It's Time :: All of Us

The other day, because my 2 older girls are each going through things that are challenging right now, I invited them over.  I had my other daughter there too. So Rosie, Mimi & Muffy were all here and before I even got them from the ferry, I spread love from my heart all around my house.  On the way to pick them up, I set my intentions to flow love, and be clear, and that everything would go beautifully, for the highest good of all.  When they got here, I gave them all moleskine journals and told them to write - to write how they want to be; how they see themselves in 6 months.  As they did, I baked cookies and told them stories of my visions.  Of how I see us all by the sea, in a magical place - All of Us - doing something that helps to elevate the planet, all of us giving from our unique selves.  Then I did tarot readings for them all.  My readings are a mixture of the cards, my intuition, my flow of love, and I try to connect them to their inner power.  I share my visions of how I see them, which is perfect and beautiful, and omg, shining so incredibly brightly that its almost insane.  I told them that part of the reason we are all stagnant & some of us feeling icky is because we have been putting off Our Stories.  And that I want to step into My Life again, and have It be a story worth telling.  I want it to be epic.  I want to FEEL life and I see them doing the same thing.  I shared some beautiful stories I had recently read and had them share some of their visions for their own stories.  
I feel a big change coming for us all.❤️💜💗



I want to share something that seems unbelievable, but it's magical to me. It's part of my story.

When I gave birth to Isabel, it was Carly that was affected the most (at least outwardly). She was seven at the time. a baby herself, still in a totally magical innocent place, she had been the one to lay her head on my belly and talk to her each morning and night. Her little sister. Alive and kicking as she sang and played beside her. So when she died, Carly couldn't really grasp it. She cried with her sisters when we came home from my dreaded last doctor appointment and told the girls, but it wasn't until she came to the hospital room after I gave birth to Isabel that she really understood. She saw her long-awaited baby sister in the bassinet, swaddled, and squealed with delight. When her daddy stopped her and said, "No, sweetheart. She's gone." Carly fell to her knees, crumpled and broken, and sobbed. Chuck had to carry her out of the room to console her. It broke my heart; her sorrow and her lost innocence. 

Fast forward 15 years. Carly is pregnant, and on the exact schedule I was with Isabel. Same conception date, same due date, with a girl. She even gives her baby-to-be the middle name Joy, just like Isabel's. 

I was there for the birth. so was her daddy. Acacia Joy came on the exact day of Isabel's due date. There was a rainbow in the sky, clear and bright, as we drove to the hospital that morning; the most perfect sign. I felt every emotion under the sun that day. my daughter giving birth to my first granddaughter. Full circle. Chuck had to sit back by the window streaming with rain and he cried. For our own lost baby girl, and now for the bliss of new life. Overwhelming, but somehow unbelievably perfect.

Now, Acacia Joy is 18 months old. She and I have a special bond. We speak without words. her heart and mine are entangled. She has the auburn hair I always pictured Isabel having. And lately, she started doing this thing, where she gets the ceramic angel we have in the front yard that has always been next to Isabel's magnolia tree that we got in her memory so many years ago, and she carries it to the front porch step. Everyone freaks out because they think she will drop it, but with my eyes I tell her it's okay. she sets it down and sits next to it. Then, she says "Gigi" to me and pats the space next to her. I go. Acacia puts her left arm around angel Isabel, and her tiny right hand on my thigh. connecting us. She smiles, and I kiss her red curls on the top of her head. I try not to cry, because really, I am just very happy. Then she calls "Mama" and wants Carly to sit next to me. She waits for her to sit down beside us, and reaches to touch her mommy's thigh too. The four of us sit, in a row, holding hands on my concrete front porch step in the summer sunlight, all touching each other. 
As if this, right here, was how it was always supposed to be.


try {there is no try, only do}

I'm always trying to be more disciplined in my writing. I never seem to do it. But I think about it a lot. I would love to put out there a story that depicts life and love from my view. My life entangled. It feels very magical. It feels like the stories of those around me fit so beautifully in with mine, and theirs are so rich and full too, they need to be a part of it. I just can't figure out how to get it to all come together. I wish I could trust in my writing. In the gift of the flow of words to move through me and put themselves perfectly onto the paper.

My heart beats with this understanding of things that even I am not sure of. Can I translate the purity of that and the beauty of that into a story that others would even understand? Would I? Maybe it's all about just writing to myself, from myself.

Letting go. Being free. Taking the leap of love {faith}.

I can try. I am open.


the beginning

March 27th, 1984. Spring quarter begins at a college in a small town, trees are becoming green, the wind blowing through them, fresh grass fills the air. I am dressed in my new white pants with colorful stripes, a shirt and vest and boots. Walking to class from my off-campus apartment with my roommate Kurt, I think to myself how nice it is to be here again after Spring Break. I feel refreshed. I just want to concentrate on school this final quarter. I want no ties to anyone. No boyfriends. Just freedom. I will concentrate on getting good grades. I feel clear and happy as I walk into my first class, Biology that I am retaking for a better grade. I took it as a freshman, but it being an 8am class and me not being a morning person didn't mesh well. Somehow that extra sleep and my D+ lead me here, like Fate.

I am holding my books, smiling and Kurt feels the need to tell me that I might want to rethink the blush I'm wearing because it's sparkly in the sunshine. So, I am glad when we part and I walk toward the Science building and into the auditorium. I randomly scan the partially full class quickly and since it is exactly 9:00 and time for class to begin, I just plop quickly into an open seat on the side of the front row. We all sit there for a bit and begin to get antsy when the teacher doesn't show up. Someone comes in a few minutes in and tells us that Tuesdays are Lab days, and there is no lecture on those days. We only have to show up in the evenings in the lab room. So we all walk out and I head to the Drama building where my next class is, stopping to wait at a bench in the courtyard and let the early Spring sun bathe my face.

Little did I know that my soulmate and life partner was in that same class. He came in on lab day too. And the seat I randomly chose to sit in was right by him. And although I didn't notice him at all, or anyone else in class for that matter, he noticed me. He watched me as I walked in. He can tell you to this day what I was wearing and how I looked. And he was so sure about what he felt in that second that he went back to his dormroom afterward and announced to his roommate Andre that he had just met the girl he was going to marry. He never told me this; Andre was the one to tell me weeks later.

Wednesday morning, on the way to class, I informed Kurt that he could keep his commentary on how I looked to himself because nothing was going to ruin my day. He just smiled and rolled his eyes. It made me laugh. And with that, he bolted off to his class because we were running late again. I made it to Biology just before the door shut, but this time class was totally packed and I slipped into the first open seat I saw. Thursday, same thing. Something seemed familiar about the person I was sitting next to, but I just took notes as we went over the syllabus and began lecture.

Friday. Repeat of the previous days, getting to class at the nick of time (my forte I must admit), but this time I was absolutely sure I was sitting next to the same guy I had been sitting next to the day before. And maybe even the day before that, if that's even possible, I thought. Was I really choosing the seat next to the same person four days in a row? Little did I know, although Fate took care of the first day when I plopped into the first seat I saw, Chuck - who is my total opposite in the procrastination department and gets everywhere exhaustively early - took the next days into his own hands and saved the open seat next to him hoping that I would be late and pick that seat. Which I did.

I smiled up at him, checking him out. He smiled back. As if he already knew me, as if he could see through into every thought I had. Like he had been watching me. Him sitting in the cool dark auditorium, and me out in the sunlight coming in looking around for a seat and walking straight toward him as if he willed it. As if he willed me to look up at him today finally.

After class, I walked to the Drama building for my next class like always, but as if a magnet was pulling me, I looked back to see if I could see him, and there he was, looking back at me. He was wearing Levis with a plain white t-shirt a jean jacket and white Nike's with a red stripe, tall and muscular. Gorgeous wavy auburn hair. His big brown eyes were mesmerizing. He wasn't smiling, but seriously looking at me as I was walking away, and I felt like a lightening bolt had hit me. Not through the heart, but in my solar plexus and then through my whole body. It was totally insane. My belly did a flip. And somehow I turned again, and walked away.

Kurt and I always drove back to our hometown on weekends because it's only 3 hours away, and it's funner than sticking around campus, especially during the nicer weather. There were toga parties and friends to hang with. So I didn't see Chuck again until Monday when I deliberately sat next to him in that deliberately saved open seat. He said Hi because he saw me making the choice this time, looking for him, at him. How was your weekend? I asked. And he started to tell me, as I am looking right at his lips, unable to look away, just as the Prof started yammering on about mitosis or something completely uninteresting all of a sudden.

And that promise I made to myself? The one where I was happy being alone and definitely not having a boyfriend to just simply enjoy Spring quarter and Ace all my classes? At that moment, it flew right out the window where the birds were singing in the trees.

After class, we gathered our stuff together and he walked me out. He asked how my weekend was, picking up my line effortlessly. I told him it was fine, that I went home. He asked where that was, and when I told him he said he'd been there with a friend from his swim team who also lived there. He told me he was from Alaska, and that he had a new motorcycle that he'd just gotten before Spring Break. I smiled because I loved riding in the warm weather and he was so happy at this reaction, he asked if I wanted to go for a ride sometime and without thinking, I said yes.

And then there, at the entrance of my class, he leaned in and I looked up into brown eyes that I could get lost in, that I felt I had known forever, my heart pounding all of a sudden. Softly he asked my name and I answered Toye, and without skipping a beat or asking me "what?" like virtually every other person in the world says when I say my name, he just holds my gaze and tells me his name is Chuck. That electric feeling in my solar plexus hits me again. Lightening. And then he breaks away, turning to go down the stairs, and as I come out of my stupor he turns again and says, This might sound a little presumptuous, but do you have tickets to the Huey Louis concert? It was being held at our school in a week and a half, and I said No and he asked if I'd like to go. I said sure for lack of an excuse or time to think of anything but those big open brown eyes, and he smiled and turned and left.

The next day, he asked me to go for a motorcycle ride with him that afternoon around the canyon. It was cool and crisp and sunny. My arms were around his waist as we flew around the corners. He held his muscular arm in his leather coat over mine in the most strongly protective and yet amazingly loving way I have ever felt. His touch was like fire. And also so cool and familiar, like home. We stopped at the Taco Time for a soda afterward. My carefully applied mascara dripped all over my face and he just smiled and told me I looked beautiful anyway. Completely and utterly embarrassed, I went to the bathroom to fix it. But also somehow I knew that it didn't matter in the slightest because for whatever reason, he thought I was the most beautiful and perfect thing on the planet and that alone made me feel beautiful too. He took me back to my apartment and then home after Lab that evening too. I was happy. Went to bed happy, woke up completely happy and energized.

Wednesday after class, I went to his dorm room and met Andre, and his other friends there. He put on music and showed me our concert tickets. He watched me intently as I moved around the room. I could feel it and I was unsure and self conscious, but I also felt he was amused and intrigued by what I did and said. I was still shy around him and didn't want to look directly into his eyes again, he was different. He could hold my gaze easily without breaking it. He wanted me to look at him, so he could see me and know that I could see him too. It was the most unusual feeling ever. Like all the pretense and game playing in the world couldn't stop the truth from flowing between us like electricity. I wanted to do it, but I had spent a lifetime putting those blocks up, and I knew with one look or touch, he could break them all down.

What the hell was this? I wondered. I'd been in love before, I knew the drill. But this? Nothing in my past could I relate it to. And come on, it had only been a few days. Hours, really, that we had been together. It was insane. We hadn't even kissed yet for chrissakes. At that moment, he looked at me and said Do I get a kiss? My belly did a flip. Do you want one? I asked flustered to high heaven. He was already leaning in. He didn't touch me, he let me attempt to get my bearings and be the one to kiss him first. This might have amused him actually. To know that I did it first. I gave him a quick peck. You know, like a friend would. He just smiled at me. He took my hand and brought me home.

Thursday after class, we talked easily. He told me that he was going to Yakima that afternoon and probably woudn't be in class the next morning because he would spend the night with his friend there. I told him that I'd see him on Monday then because Kurt and I were going home for the weekend again, as usual. We were kind of holding hands, fingers entwined lightly and as I turned to go and our hands parted, still touching, he pulled me back around as if he wanted to look at me one last time then. He smiled. Not if I come back tonight, he whispered. My blue eyes looking into his brown ones. Lightening. I walked straight up to him then and kissed him. Really kissed him this time. He was shocked and amused at the same time, and then relaxed and really kissed me back. Done, I thought then. I am so done. He was the best kisser, ever.

Friday, he was in class. I was surprised, I honestly thought he wouldn't be there. He asked me if I was really leaving him for the whole weekend. I'd already packed and was leaving early right after Drama, and said yes. He stopped by our apartment to say goodbye, but I was still in class and Kurt picked me up at campus and didn't even tell me this until we were over the pass. The whole weekend all I wanted to do was get back to school.

Monday morning couldn't come fast enough. In class we sat closer and he came over in the afternoon and we played cribbage and kissed. A lot. He didn't call that night like he usually did, and Tuesday, with no actual class, only lab, he met me as I was going into the Drama building. He seemed distant. He finally said I don't know how you feel, but I like you very much. I just stared at him because the way he said it wasn't like he had usually been. It was much more closed and guarded. I didn't know what to do with this. He continued, But I don't want to get serious. I want to do things together, but nothing heavy. I was totally in shock and unsure of everything and all I could do was nod my head and say, Sure, that's fine. He gave me back that first friendly peck kiss and walked away.

Being a girl, I spent the rest of the day until Lab analyzing what the hell could possibly be going on. Maybe he had some other girlfriend. Lord knows I had an ex-boyfriend back home that was ready to pounce. And another guy from high school who was going to the same college that I had dated briefly during the end of Winter quarter was still trying to hang around too. But I didn't give a crap. I was so entranced with whatever this new thing was that was taking over my thoughts and dreams and every waking minute, opening up feelings that I never knew existed that none of that mattered. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe he didn't feel what I had thought I'd felt him feeling. That was the big thing right there. We were totally in tandem for a while; feeling what each other was feeling. Reading each other's minds and hearts and the biggest, most amazing part of it all was that I knew he was feeling what I was feeling too. I could feel it radiating through the ether like sunlight.

I couldn't figure it out. I even talked to Kurt about it, sort of. He was no help whatsoever. Kurt had seemed totally annoyed that I was going through this and ignoring him most of the time too. He did drive me to class that evening after dinner though. He drove his Monte Carlo right up next to the motorcycle Chuck had just pulled in on where he was pulling off his helmet. I hit Kurt in the arm so hard and he just laughed. God, I was so embarrassed having to get out right there as if I'd asked Kurt to do that when all I really wanted was to go into Lab alone and find a new freaking lab partner. So not cool. But Chuck said hi and we walked into the building together and as fate would have it, just as Chuck stopped at the Coke machine to get a soda, an old friend from high school came up and put his arm around me, was happy to see me, and talked animatedly about a party at home that coming weekend. It was perfect. We didn't talk much through lab, but he did give me a ride home and kissed me goodbye. He seemed to be melting a little. I couldn't bring myself to ask him what was really up.

Wednesday, he didn't show up for class. No phone call. Zip. He had gone up to Yakima again and spent the night, I guess. I was trying not to think about him after that. So, after class on Thursday, when he grabbed me because I bolted the heck out of there like lightening so I didn't have to see or talk to him, I was surprised. Everything about him changed again. He was wide open. I was closed as all hell, but he was standing there in the weather holding my arm, his hair curling from the misty rain, eyelashes so long they looked like stars around his big brown sparkling eyes, questioning, pulling me in. Willing me to stop being mad, to see through him again. He loosened his grip and softly pulled me to him, as if nothing and no one else were around. The rain falling. He said to me then, I have been having some issues in Yakima. All I could do was try not to cry, my heart was so full at that moment, like a release. Every part of me for the last two days had wanted this to happen and I pictured me telling him to take a flying leap, but in this very moment all I could do was say, I hope you're okay. And I wanted to hold him and make sure that he was. I put my hand on his heart then. My pulse feeling his heartbeat. One. It steadied me. It filled him. He breathed out, grateful. I am now, he whispered.

I tried to tell him that we didn't have to go to the concert that night if it wasn't right for him, and he looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. No way, he said. I have been waiting to take you out long enough, I am not going to wait any longer. We both laughed then. He picked me up and we went back to his room where he had drinks and candles set up before the concert and for afterward too. My stomach was flipping out. He kissed me and said Remember what I said the other day about us just being friends? I said yes and he said, Well, forget it! And we toasted to that. The concert was so much fun, and later, we just held hands and talked. Kissed a lot again. His roommate was there, so we went for a walk in the moonlight. Then he gave me a ride home on his motorcycle. It was very sweet. I was still holding back though. I had one more weekend to go home, there was a party for my sister's birthday and I had to go. He wanted me to stay because he knew he was going to be leaving in a few short months back up to Alaska. Which was part of the reason he said he didn't want to get serious. But both of us really had no choice in the matter. We knew it was all over.

Monday, April 16th, 1984. We didn't spend one day apart after that until the day in mid-June after finals, after we'd both packed everything up, after we'd spent months learning about every part of each other, remembering. Feeling more at home than we'd ever been in this life, living in some kind of universally magical cocoon. We spent every minute together until the moment he got on his motorcycle to ride his bike up the Al-Can to Alaska to work for the summer. I followed him in my car to the top of the pass as it turned from sunshine to rain, where he pulled over to put on his raingear, and he was surprised to see me. He was so happy. The night before, we were sitting on the couch just inside of his dorm, people coming and going, packing and moving. All the hustle around us, but neither of us could see anything but the other. He told me again all the reasons he wanted me to remember him over the summer. He reminded me that we'd married ourselves under the stars a few weeks before. He held me next to his heart and put his hands in my hair and told me I was his everything, that he would never love anyone else, and that he'd dreamed of me and wished for me and couldn't believe that I was here and real. I told him I had never felt anything like this before and that I have always been his, and we both cried. Tears streaming down our faces and he took his finger and touched my tear and held it to his lips. How I am ever going to let you go tomorrow? he asked me then, echoing exactly what I was feeling, like he always did. Like he still does now. So on the top of the mountain then, in the pouring rain, we kissed goodbye again. And even though our bodies would be separated many times after that, and even sometimes our minds and hearts were too - our souls never were.


breaking the ice

My son's backpack was stolen the other day. Why I'm thinking about this now, I have no clue. Other than perhaps it's something to write about. Something to break the ice. I've been getting these subtle hints from the universe to write again. Okay, maybe they started out subtle, like a little itch, but now, it's full-on blatant. So here I am. Thinking about my son. And his backpack. And the people or person who stole it. My son's best friend's backpack was also stolen. They have been leaving them at their bus stop after school and they walk down to the Elementary kitty-corner and down the street, so that my son Duncan can pick up his sister Elsa and his best friend Kalel can pick up his little brother Anakin. So for six months, they have been leaving these backpacks laying in the bushes not to be touched, and then last week *poof* they are gone. Thankfully, there wasn't really that much in Duncan's that we needed to replace. The biggest thing was his warm coat. It was a great coat too. Black wool peacoat that we bought at a secondhand store in October for him to use at Halloween to dress up as the mad hatter. He really loved that coat. Elsa even wore it sometimes. It was pretty awesome. And we'd just gotten him a new backpack that he really liked because his other one exploded from all the crap they make you carry around in a backpack these days. This new backpack was more like a computer carrier, I think it even said IBM on it. Maybe that's what caught someone's eye after all these months. But you'd think that upon seeing a library book about Percy Jackson and a Junior High Planner and some other school supplies and his big coat stuffed in there, that they'd just leave it. In any case, they didn't. And Duncan come home and told me and he felt bad. But I helped him dig out an old backpack we had lying around from his big sisters and some paper and notebooks and pencils and a new planner and voila. All is well. But he felt bad still. And even got a little weepy. But we hugged and didn't make a big deal about it, because really, what good would that do? My son and his smile are all that really matter. I know his heart is big. And I know he will remember things like this and not make a big deal of it with his son either someday. And, I hope that the new person at least fits into the magical Mad Hatter jacket and is warm on this cold blustery end of February day.


No words.

Writing. Practicing some kind of modicum of discipline. Ugh. I hate that word. I'm the antithesis of discipline. But, like most humans, it feels good to do it. To accomplish something. And so. I begin. Maybe not always here. I actually want to start writing in a word doc, you know, like a real writer. But still, here feels comforting, and familiar.

Deep breath.

Isabel came to me last night, I was shocked that she has been gone from me for 13 years almost now. That it has been 13 years since she danced in my belly. I laid my hand there, where she lived, and the tears came easily. Freely, purely. God, I loved her. I love her still. I heard the song today- The Impossible Dream and there's a lyric that says: "to bear with unbearable sorrow" and "to love pure and chaste from afar" and there she was again. The feelings came rushing back. But softer. More knowing. More clear. She's here, always. She is love.

And so when I think about writing, I wonder - what is the story inside of me that I need to tell? And it's never really clear. I wait for that clarity, but maybe the clarity only comes by doing it. By beginning and continuing something... I'm not sure. Maybe. I know the theme is always love. I know that the stories that capture my attention are about love. How it rolls and turns and is filled with everything; grief, joy, death, birth. All of it boils down to one thing. The pain we go through to really *feel* it, and know it, become one with it.

Life is love. Love is life.

And so. I really just want to live it. I don't know if I'm ready to write about it. The words seem so inadequate. The being and living of it means more. Sharing it from within. It's really all I can do. Be me, my truth, naked in front of you.

And so I do.