fear and love again because of dumbass phone networks

 You came home last night as my heart was in my throat, shoulders clutched tight, as I fought my stupid animal brain of base instincts.

He's alive. He's fine. He's just not coming home. 

My fear turned to anger so fast. 

The relief so exhausting i felt I could fall asleep as you leaned over me. 

Face concerned, voice so soft and lovely.

What would I do 

I wouldn't 

I wouldn't do anything if the news came.

Time would stop, the world would stop.  

We would be stopped. 

I scolded you, the fear clear to me and to you. You leaned over me, kissed me, stroked my head and hair. 

Exhaustion and worry written into every line of my body. 

Yes, I pretended all day and night I was not worried

I ate, I wrote, I talked.

I thought, "this is what it would be like without him" 

I tried to trick myself to stop the fear. 

And now I write to release the fear. 

You are alive and you tried to contact me. 

You understand my fear. 

You love me and I love you so much. 

every moment with your parents is precious

memory can be the most important thing for many of us

the connection is fascination!

a stranger fell in love with my mother

she was not strange to him

she loved him

without him and

without her

together.

around me, together, i would not have the love that i have today

i would not have the family and connection i have today

I would not be as grateful as I am for the memories, the fleeting glimpses of green leaf, brown branch, blue sky, white cloud, grey granite rock.

I would not have this lust for climbing tall mountains to inhale the clear air, to be away from the culture that I am a part of, that I have steadfastly stepped into and wear everyday like my clothes.

I would not have the confidence to explore my roots, deeply buried, not intentionally hidden (I hope) but buried under nurturing soil. I straddle these worlds. 

I see time in my parents' movements. I see their hands, slower, aged. You know what it looks like, the digits are stiffer, the skin looser or crisper, like fall leaves.  Backs and shoulders, permanently curved, like their body does not know how to unfold from their children in their arms.

The way they think is different from years ago.  It is different from how I think now. 

I have anticipated this moment, especially after watching my mom care for my grandmother. I have anticipated the moment I notice:

They are slower, they are riskier.

I went to beach on Friday with my mom, she said she doesn't go in the water any more without someone else. Her sense of security with her body is not what it used to be.  This can happen at any age and my mom had a leg surgery within the last 12 months. But it scares me. 

I fear losing my parents worse than death. They will not see us thrive. They will not see all their hopes for us play out. It is so important I cherish these days I have with them and remember them as they were. 

Playful, fearless, powerful.

Scary, angry, lost.

Supportive, loving, strong.

Quiet, thoughtful, imaginative. 

they will always be a part of me. 

september

 fires.

floods.

storms.

where do you shelter?

where do you run and hide?

How will you stand tall against these uncontrollable forces and continue to signal to others: 

I

Will

Live.

I 

Will

Persist.

Humans are not the only ones with this self preservation instinct. But,

we are the only ones.

Who can put our consciousness onto paper.

These mountains will continue to roll and sink, will melt, will be fired into the sky.

Their peaks, like heartbeats along the horizon, steady. Ageless.

So we seek to be.

Continue standing tall.

Don't run. 

Don't hide.

Open your heart and mind and put the words out there.

Speak Sing Write Scream

Talk about September, when the fires took futures, when the floods erased. 

Persist, as the will of the fallen attempted.