Tender Opening

Tender Opening

Skin tingles….tickles..  Burns. Heart pounds. Something is opening in me. Possibliities.

Been stuck still cold .. feel different now.

Feeling more awake…more feelings

my imagination matters…my desire is …exists….wow

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Remembering Mom

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Remembering Mom

Today I am remembering you.

On Feb 18th it will be eight years since you passed. I don’t feel sad today. The sun is shining. I want to celebrate you.

Glad I knew you this lifetime.

I know we will meet again on another go around, but today I want to celebrate  you as Mom and also your friendship…..

You were a first time Mom of 26. You didn’t know you were having twins until I was born and the shocked doctor said ” Mrs. Brownstone, there is another one on the way.” Crazy.

I could only image how overwhelming that was in the early days of having us. You couldn’t hold us. The doctor said it wasn’t okay to hold us premies. 7 weeks early both being under 4 pounds each.  No fair. 4 weeks in the hospital. Then when you brought us home there was a mean nurse who wouldn’t let you hold us for another 3 weeks. That was wrong. So wrong.  Twins need to be held  or at least touched by their parents so they can bond. We bonded later.

I remember you picking us up from Shoesmith after school….talking about our days.

Thank you for  making sure we went to Phoenix, a parent run alternative school. I learned how to read there from Pat Keig. You remember teachers who teach you to read at nine. I remember the nightly eye exercises with the string and green ball to try to focus my eyes.  Seeing double is no joke.

I remember you and Dad  reading bedtime stories and your backrubs. Laura and I shared a bed room in Chicago. We pushed our two beds together. Caty our little sister slept in the crack some nights. She didn’t want to be left out. Love you Caty and Laura.

I remember you coming to my gymnastic meets, spotting me in our carpetted living room to do backflips from a standing position. Thanks for your strength and patience. You understood when I needed a day off from school because of anxiety from competeing. You let me sleep it off.  I had a hard time going to Junior high. The bullying in 7th and 8th grade was brutal. Thank you for being there for me and getting professional help for me.

I remember you coming to my performances and cheering me on.

I remember the day John Lennon died. We were both home for the day. We both cried. We played and sang Beatles songs. We sang until we started laughing. I miss your laughter. I miss your voice.

The other day I remembered meeting you in downtown Akron with my sisters for cokes and bowling. We did that once a week. It made being in Akron better.

I remember our poltical talks around the white round dining room table as a family. We had alot of family dinners. We would discuss current events, politics, during Reagan’s time in office. I remember thinking that you were very smart. You knew alot. You also listened to us kids give our opinions.

I remember canvassing in the rain with you in the 80s trying to register people to vote. People back then said” My vote doesn’t matter.” You taught me that votes do matter.

I remember the day you and Dad told us your were separating.  You intiated  the separation but both of you weren’t happy for along time. It takes courahe to leave and start a new life. You showed me how to do that.

Talking with you about maybe going to Israel for a year study abroad when I was 21. I climbed into bed with you and we weighed the pros and cons together. You also helped me picked up the pieces of myself when I returned.

Later you came to my wedding at Foster Beach. You let me learn from that lesson.

I remember you as the best Grandma devoted to: Rose, Anna and Miranda.

I remember your courage volunteering for the Obama campaign, answering phones trying to be civil with angry callers. You were on the frontlines with other grandmas.

I remember traveling with you to Paris and Greece and to the Obama innaguration in 2009. Huddling around George and his wife. There were 20 of us listening to Obama on the radio  outside crying and laughing together. We had tickets to the blue gate but we couldn’t get in. Our experience was still special. We were together being a part of history.

I remember you getting sick with ALS. You lost your voice first, then eating, then walking. I am glad I could be there for you that last year.  I got to know you  and like you.

All the old hurts didn’t matter. You told me when you still had you voice ” Eve I want you to really love yourself my dear. I want you to get this.” I do Mom.

Eight years later, I am remember alot of the goodtimes..thankyou Mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are you afraid of the dark?

Are you afraid of the dark?

Yes.

I sleep with a light on most nights.

What are you afraid of ?

Myself…bad dreams.

Tired of sleeping alone…the light keeps me company…someone is there

The Light. Its comforting. It reminds me that I will wake up…there is stuff to look forward to. I don’t know I sound cryptic.

Nice to be writing again. Clears out the cobwebs in my heart,

my mind is full with changes

Change of work….change of mindset……I want to be okay with the Dark…

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Our Children

 

 

 

 

Our Children

These are our children.

These are our children.

Can’t seem to find the words

These are our children

These are our children.

Not in my name.

Not running away I am speaking up. Saying something.

Speaking up for our Children

These are our Children.

Love them. Open arms. tenderness.

Long journey. Tired. Scared. You are welcome here. All are welcome here who seek safety.

Sorry. Please forgive us.

We can’t won’t keep our own children safe in their kindergarten class.

No gun control.

Being stong means taking crying babies from their mothers?  Keeping the NRA happy ?Fuck you…fuck you Mr. Fucktoid Cheetohead.

 

Cussing and taking action is happening right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

II

Tears

Why the tears?

Why tonight?

Why are you sobbing my dear one?

I don’t know.

Something to do with Love.

A loving longing in me.

Wishes to speak.

There are words coming

Forces awkward..

Gentle Eve..kindness is needed here with you.

Music and movement.

You got something precious inside you.

Something new for you.

That’s what matters.

Its the book,

The poem,

The moment that matters…

Stop running from yourself my dear.

No facebook…no texting

Just for you.

Feel dear one.

Feel

Be

Trust..trust you.

Trying to find the magic.

You already have it.

There is no where to go…

Nothing to do

Stop trying

You’ve been trying forever.1798177_10152234373857023_796873160348847444_n

Mom’s Last Day

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Mom’s Last Day.

It started out as a crisp bright unseasonable warm day in February 2011.Mom enjoyed the day by going outside in her motorized wheelchair. I wasn’t with her until the evening. I had planned to stay the night. Mom was weaker. I sensed during that week that she was energetically going in and out of her body. She was practicing to go…..she was ready to leave her body. The last evening she was misspelling wotds on her ipad and and her fingers tips had  turned blue. Those are signs of taking in less oxygen.

That evening I gave mom her evening meal in her IV drip. Mom was taking in liguid food through a feeding tube. There was some confusion about her medicaton. It was given too close to her food and mom began  to asphyxiate. My step-father and I tried to get the liguid out of mom’s throat with a suction tube. We couldn’t remove the liquid. Mom was choking. I called the Hospice nurse. Bless her. She told me to give mom morphin. The Hospice nurse came over and gave mom more morphine and an oxygen mask.  At the time the  nurse arrived. My Step- father realized what was going on. He couldn’t cope and screamed/cried and went into his bedroom for the night. Mom was his rock.

The nurse and I were with Mom as she lay in bed in the living room. Nurse warned this could be a catastrophic event. Mom could be dying.  I stayed with Mom through the night. Around 3am, I was lying on the carpet next to Mom’s bed. I remember Mom looking out the window at something/someone. She reached out her hand as if to hold someone’s hand. In my mind ‘s eye, I saw Mom take her Grandmother Annabelle’s hand and then Mom’s hand dropped and she let go of her body.

In the morning, my Step-Father came out of his room. . He was an emotional mess. I comforted him. I made the phone calls to the hospice nurse who lovingly took care of Mom’s body (same one who came the night before). My sisters and their husbands  and children came over.  We held each other. I called my Uncle Jack. My Father happened to be in town. My father held me.

I wish I had called my sisters so that they could have been there through the night with Mom I know it was Mom’s time to go. I know I was there for her and Mom knew that. I Love you Mommaseita. Thank you for my Life and your Love.

Never wrote about this before. Feels good. I feel released.

Questions from I Got This!

Some questions asked in I Got This!:
What does Love feel like to you?
What do you really want?
What are you afraid of?
What behavior do you need to face?
How do you show up for yourself?
Who else has you back?
What is your truth?
What gets you out of your comfort zone?
What are you open to receiving?
What are the keys to your life?
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Love?

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Love is in the bright eyes of a little one riding on  dad’s shoulders at a protest on a sunny day in Grant Park.

Love is in the  mother holding her child close after a long night of Croup.

Love is in the joy of a puppy who learns about snow for the first time.

Nothing to get in the way.

Real. Moments.

For me it is the moment I feel myself stand up..not scared…on both my feet with the keys to my own damn life…that is Love too.