This is a transaction of energies.
And when you’re indecisive and especially when you’re in mourning, sometimes you need to sleep on it. When I woke up I had the clarity that I am an extremely crafty and capable person and the most meaningful symbol would most definitely something created with my own to hands.
So this is how I found myself, bikini clad, poolside, crying mommy tears into an extra fancy, floral garnished umbrella drink on Mother’s Day.
Flipping through the one too many black shirts you have, the Monday through Thursday stripes, your soul searches for something to celebrate this great achievement… and then there she is, the Acacia Limu Dress in Hibiscus.
This morning my son asked me how long it takes to read a whole book. Now, this is a difficult thing to measure unless your timing it, which is impossible what with all the interruptions of reading like having to go to work, feed your family, personal hygiene and HBO Documentaries that need watching.
Anyone whose been to Maui could tell you that the moment you get off the plane the wind greets you with a big warm hug and whispers into your ear “I love you so much already.” I would come to know this wind like a watchful elder who chooses their words carefully and are not to be ignored.
In the hour of your death, I wrote these words for you, Patricia.
Hometown. Side Street.
Think about your home, your town, family artifacts, legends… the story these things tell are linear, and go both back in time and forward and we are but a mere dot existing on that line.
I would walk around with a book in my hand, brush my teeth with a book in my hand, take out the trash with a book in my hand, wash the dishes while leaning over the counter, reading the water splashed pages that I couldn’t tear my eyes off of.