Saturday, May 13, 2017

Soli is 7

On the eve of his seventh birthday

His face slides across the road,
Anything to keep his dad from
Making another basket,
Eye, cheek, chin now red and swollen.
I hold the ice pack in place,
Hold his long body in the bed,
Back to chest.
We've always meant to go together-
His kind kind eyes and wild hair,
The way he races to find his buddies after school,
Takes another too steep hill on his bike,
Flips over the handlebars.
That was just a few days ago.
His knees are raw on raw.
Thank god for helmets,
Cortisone cream, bandaids.
Thank god for fierce loyalty,
For fighting hard and loving harder.
How I adore him with a ferocity,
With an acceptance
Of all I don't totally grasp,
His boy wild,
His fearless warrior of rad.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

staycation

This is the winter I choose to embrace snow.  Ice.  Pockets of blue that arrive like grace from the clouds.  Red berries left on the Mountain Ash.  The way my skis glide up the trail and the view of the frozen creek.  Sulfuric waters that rise from the earth.  Small Montana towns with one quirky bakery and a cowboy bar.  Yellowstone and her bison, her geysers, the way they make the earth smell sulfuric and wild.  Hotel rooms and sharing space and sleeping in and moving slow.  The way the pockets of blue guide me through each day, living for them, for the light, for the moments of grace. 

















Sunday, October 2, 2016

in's, out's, and so many special days

I found this in my drafts -- I guess it never published.  For the sake of the archive, I'm doing a little spring Soli shout out in October...

Soli turned six on Tuesday.  Six.  I can't really believe this even happened.  And just like that, he's huge.  He plays with his buds in the hood for hours, battles and legos and trucks and soccer.  He had a huge party at the park and blew around in a pack of little ragamuffins, all slicky short glory.  He's radical. 

April was a heck of a month.  I was further geographically removed from my kiddos than ever before, gone for two weeks for work.  While I traveled to places exotic and exciting, I definitely left a big part of myself at home.  I am attached to my home.  My home and the people who live here.

Today is Mother's Day and while there is so much more to say, what I'm feeling tonight is absolute grace.  Today I did not want to leave my deck, the view of the green mountains, the sounds of my kiddos moving this way and that, my husband tidying up, chatting.  I waited for some burst of energy, some need to do things totally for me, to leave them and do yoga, meet a friend for a latte, a hike, whatever, but I really had no interest.  I wanted to be with them.  They did the hike with me.  We did our thing, enjoyed our hills and the balsamroot, our music and our odd ways.