Forgiveness

Forgiveness

It's a gift.
A gift for who?
For me.
Why?
Because I need to be soft.
And open.
And free.

So I say out loud.
"I forgive you."
And my stomach
relaxes.
My heart slows down.
My fists unclench.

The bird outside my window
Sings a beautiful song.
He's free.
He flies to the tip top
and sings.

A smooth, soft song.
takes up the space
of silence
And replaces sadness
with joy.

Brian goes to Mirror Lakes

Brian hopped in his yellow bug, didn't put on his seat belt, and turned on the stereo. He sped out of the gravel driveway-tires throwing rocks at the pine trees.  He stuck his elbow out of window then checked his pocket to make sure he had his cell phone. He sat it on the passenger seat.
"Find me some bo dy to lu uv. Find me some bo dy to lu uv!" He sang, with no shame.
He approached the single red light in downtown Buchanan. It was yellow. Brian sped up and made it just before it turned red. Coming right towards him was Stephanie's dad. He flashed the blue lights, grinned and waved.

Brian's phone lit up. It was Claire.

"You still coming?" She was direct.
"Yep. On my way."

He felt a bit intimidated driving to the elite Mirror Lakes community. He'd heard about it from friends. The rumours-CEO's, pro-athletes, doctors, lawyers, drug-dealers, business magnates built the sprawling development for its convenience to Atlanta.

As he cruised down I-20, he felt free. Like he was taking life into his own hands, determining his own destiny. The tree-lined interstate, with its overhead passes, felt like it was his road.  He noticed state troopers every few miles, and slowed down to 75 mph.

As he exited, he turned on the GPS audio. "Turn left in 100 yards."
"Yea, sure. Okay Miss Sarah." He responded.

The address he plugged in, 104 Nautical Way, sounded like a California address to him. Georgia towns didn't have names like that. Washington, Maple, First Street, MLK Street. Names with history. Nautical reminded him of pirates. He loved Pirates of the Caribbean. And Sinbad. But still, the street name was out of place here.

"Turn right onto Conners Rd. in point three miles."
"Okay Miss Sarah."

His phone vibrated. It was Claire.

"You close?"

"Yep."
"I'm outside with my board."
": )"

As he turned down her street, he saw her standing on the sidewalk. She had on white skinny jeans. Tight ones. And a white T-shirt. She also wore every piece of protective gear one could get on a body. Shin guards-black, elbow guards-black, knee pads, helmet-black. She resembled a storm trooper from Star Wars. Just sexier.

His heart raced and he slowed down as he pulled up beside her.
"You are on time!" she smiled at him and walked towards the car.
"Yea, I like to be punctual. Its a thing of mine." He got a whiff of her. She smelled something like candy and flowers mixed together. He wanted to hop out of the car and kiss her.
"You can park here." She motioned to the driveway. "My dad's out running errands."

He slowly pulled in, and she walked beside him. "You like Queen?" She tapped out the rhythm of Crazy Little Thing Called Love on the roof of his car.
"Love em." Brian grinned at her.
"Sweet. Me too!" Claire flipped her hair over her shoulders and stayed right beside his car, holding on to the roof as he pulled in the driveway.
"Don't let me run over you." Brian couldn't help being protective. It was his nature.
"Yea. I love Queen. My dad had a collection of their albums. I found them last summer. Then I lucked up on a turn-table at the pawn store for 20 bucks."
"What's your favorite album?" She stood on her skate board and began spinning with her arms outstretched.
"If you'd asked me last month, I would have said A Night At the Opera, but now I'm stuck on The Game. How bout you?" He reached into his backseat and grabbed his skateboard and backpack. He left the stereo on.
"Night at the Opera. No question. Best album ever." Claire raised both her hands over her head.
"Did you know that Roger Taylor studied to be a dentist?" Brian added.
"That's crazy. How'd you know that?"
"Well, my middle name is Roger. Yep. I'm named after him. My mom had this serious thing for drummers. But he was her favorite. She said I didn't look much like a Neal or Stewart."
Claire's face twisted around. "Neal?"
" Neal Pert-Rush. Stewart's with the Police. Sorry. My family's all into classic rock." Brian opened the car door, and swung his legs out.
"Freddie is one of my favorite singers of all time. He had soul." Claire skated up to her front door, locked the door, stuck a key in her pocket, and skated back to Brian's car.

"My dad told all his family my name was Ringo. I've got baby cards saying, 'Welcome to the world, Ringo!' That's pretty lame, huh?" Brian meant to be putting on his gear. But he couldn't take his eyes off of her. When she skated, it was like she was floating on a cloud. He'd never seen anyone skate so effortlessly, in person.
"That is sick! Your parents sound like mine. Or, well, my dad." Claire turned away from Brian and it looked like she wiped her face. She spun back around. "Get your gear on. I wanna show you something."
Brian sat in his car seat, opened his bag and pulled out his helmet, knee and elbow pads.
"Let me help you with that." Claire took the knee pads out of his hands, squatted down and velcroed them on. She looked up at Brian. He looked into her light green eyes, encircled with long brown lashes, and felt his heart leap out towards her. This was new. Girl kneeling down, looking at him, and smiling.
"There, all done. Now get your helmet on!" She snapped her fingers and then pointed at him and headed down the sidewalk.
Brain couldn't figure out what to do next. He touched his elbows to make sure he'd put on the pads. The past two minutes were a blur. All he could see were her green eyes. Clear, like a clean swimming pool. He wanted to jump in.

He got on his board, and floated behind her. Watching her hair blow and hoping to catch the scent. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. He didn't know if he smiled back or not. He was too stunned with her storm-trooper beauty.

Cory Monteith

Cory Monteith

"An accidental drug overdose?" My daughter asked me. 

"Yes, I believe it was."

 He was planning on a life with his longtime girlfriend. He was still on the payroll of Glee. I don't think he intended to die. Maybe take away some pain for a short time, but not his life.

Cory had a tough life. More challenging than most. His parent divorced when he was seven. From there, life pretty much unravelled for him. He attended 16 schools, some of which were alternative schools. He dropped out at age 16, which is pretty typical for someone who has changed schools so frequently. At one point, he lived in his car. It's not surprising that he began using drugs at age 13. He started with marijuana and alcohol, as so many young people do.  He has openly shared about his struggle to live life 'clean.' 

 His story is typical on many levels. His desire to live pain-free is a goal for most humans. Learning to live with pain, and not injure yourself or another is a quest for mankind. No one has mastered it.

Despite his pain and addictions, Cory accomplished a lot in this life. The  producers of Glee stated that Cory had a tremendous work ethic, and was reliable and stable. This is evidence that he was clean for a good portion of his career. Relapses are very common with addicts, and Cory wasn't exempt from this.

The facts remain. Cory was a kind, hard-working young man, that was successful on many levels. He was tremendously generous with his time and money. Just a few weeks before he passed away, he sent a video to encourage a high school student, who struggled with the pain of life. The link is posted below.

http://www.examiner.com/video/cory-monteith-video-message-to-fan

He was the quiet, unassuming, tender man. I hope his life-ending will create a cascade of discussions about drug abuse, addictions and recovery. Maybe there are people, young and old, who will find sobriety through his sacrifice.

Thank you Cory, for following your dream.

You have given us a gift. Yourself.

Whoosh

Water lapping on the shore

Wind blowing my hair

A small plane buzzes through the billowing clouds

A jet ski bumps behind me

I lay on the hard, warm, wooden dock

My eyes are closed, and I face the sky

But I can see the sun through my eyelids

The salty air blows over me, just as I feel my skin begin to sear

What shall I do next, 

Dive off the dock?

Drop some cookies into the water to see what will eat them?

Take a walk to the Johnson's dock

Or just lay here some more and enjoy the sun on my skin.

I can hear a distant voice

"Mom, what'll we have for dinner?"

"Well, we've got that lettuce and those tomatoes. Let's make a salad."

"I'll grill the steaks."

"And bake some potatoes too."

"I'll run to the PX for some more bread and butter."

The ground is cleared.

But the memories swirl around me.

Peace is still here.

In my mind.

Blowing Bubbles

I purse my lips as if to kiss an unseen suitor.
I gently hold a wand of magic in my fingers,
Angle it towards the sky,
Then release a puff of air.

Little circles of transparent eternity
covered in colors
lavender, yellow, orange, pink, green 
swirl over the shiny globes.
They float around me, close, so I can
see through them.

They reflect my present life,
And allow me to see through them, 
to the future.
The colors: soft, gentle, 
inspire me.
They show me that my present circumstances, 
the joy 
and the difficulties
mix together
to create my beautiful life.

I see myself holding the wand, smiling,
gazing at the orb

A gentle wind carries the bubbles over the roof.

My spirit 

lives in the sphere 

of transparent love

 and 

floats 

away.

Now I can send another puff of air
into eternity.
And I will position myself
So that my head
is pointing up
Towards the soft wind, and gentle love
that creates the multicolored world

Bubbles.
They show me everything.

Freedom

Looking at the birds, 

fluttering around on a branch

overhead.

They are hopping on the ground,

beaks, pecking the pine needles

Expecting to find something

As I peck at the seemingly dry ground

I expect to find a drop of water

or a hidden cavern

leading to a new green pasture

The moment my beak hits the ground

The blue sky turns to billowing gray masses

covering any trace of warm, glowing sun

yet a drop of water hits the very spot

of dry, dusty earth

The drop, shaped like a tear

Reflects my face, 

My features become a misshapen oval head

and I sip the drop into my parched mouth

Another drop falls at my feet, and then I feel

a cool drop on my head, another on my back and 

moments later they begin rolling off my oily feathers

Soon I am standing in a small pool

Memory of dryness creeps into my thoughts

And the sun instantly bakes me into a crispy mess

like burnt bacon

I look up and see the birds on the branch

and remember that I must simply put

my beak to the dry ground.

I lower my head

In expectation of the rain

that will soon fall 

and quench my every need.

Chest pounding.
An ache that reminds me of getting run over by a car.
The tire tracks riding straight over my heart.

Remember the kisses on each eyelid, each cheek, then the chin, the forehead
sometimes the top of my head.

I love you all the way to the moon and back.
Now I know what that really means.
I'm on the moon, looking back.
And I peer in the window of our home
our  hearts
And I want to thank you for those hugs, and kisses
And the bedtime prayers

Thank you for bouncing the ball in the house
for leaving your shoes in the middle of the floor
for dropping your book bag in the kitchen

Thank you for taking out the trash
For doing your homework
Thank you for showing me your feelings
For telling me that you were sad, but you didn't know why

Thank you for touching my necklace
And asking me why people cry.

Thank you for riding circles around me on your bicycle
Thank you for letting me try to pitch 100 baseballs to you
in the pouring down rain on a fall day, in the dark
Because you wrote each of your spelling words, ten times.
And each word you put on the paper earned you a pitch from me
And when we got to the 67th pitch, you said,
"Let's go inside mamma. It's raining, and it's dark."

Right now, its raining  in my soul

And I pray the rain will help germinate
a small seed of hope
That will grow
And take the place of my loss