I want to tell you something
whispered to me
too many years late
Don't be afraid
and don't let me stop you
from loving and living
So smile and say yes
to that first date
let him take your hand, stand
in the middle of the street at night
and kiss him hard.
Come close baby
I want to hold you
and shut the hurt out
I want to stand giant between you
and everyone else
I want you to be happy
but only if it means you never feel
your heart beat open
the flesh ripped back
exposed and alive
like mine is and was
and always will be
because you are in this world.
Reach out baby
I want you to live
You're going to love and break
and I want it all for you
I know not to worry (though I do)
because I know you
courageous every day
strong in your frailty
beautiful and lovely
like the things in my heart
when I sat and cried
on a swing in the park
breaking and hoping for another day
one better and full of new to-comes.
Walk bold baby
through each new door
though you cannot know what's ahead
and it feels easier to give up
Your frailty is part of your sparkle
the stars that make up your soul
are strong as they are glorious
and I've watched them brighten with every
humble selfless quiet brilliant stubborn gorgeous thing
you've ever done
and so I know there's more to come.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
We walk home
and carry our coats: the evidence of spring
in cherry blossoms
and perspiration on my upper lip.
I have my umbrella (of course)
and wear my galoshes.
But the grass could be greener
and the watershed's only half full.
Tomorrow I will wear ballet flats with
my new teal skirt
so it can rain.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
|eating gluten free pie before Lydia moved back to TB|
It's not so much that I can't believe she's gone, as it is that I can't believe she didn't beat it.
|summer in her yard|
We became friends almost three years ago. We had known each other from work before that but it wasn't until after she finished school and quit Starbucks that we actually hung out. Lydia asked me to meet for coffee one day because she needed someone to talk with, and she sensed that I would understand her questions and struggles about a life with faith. We talked for about 3 hours and have been close friends ever since. She was incredibly fun and loving but she also never put up with crap. It could be jarring at times but I loved her for telling me when I was being an idiot.
|hanging out with Chris at the YVR airport and avoiding saying goodbye|
Lydia handled herself with dignity. Frustrated and hurt when her health was holding her back from what she wanted to do, she often did those things anyways, resilient and so stubborn in the face of daunting obstacles.
|a summer of fun and the view from Lydia's hospital window|
Lydia was quirky, full of random knowledge and interests that spilled out at any time, in any place and without warning. One day we were having coffee and she just started talking to the guys at the table next to us because she couldn't not engage in a conversation about Russian authors.
|how do we look?|
Lydia accepted me with my faults out in the open, letting me know that she actually liked me, for me. Generous and thoughtful, when she moved back to Thunder Bay, she offered me her clothes, almost anything I wanted from her closet. Who does that?!
|I only dress up like this when Lydia comes to Nanaimo to visit|
The first person to make me eat Indian food and the reason I know how hard it is to find diet ginger ale in the stores, Lydia you are one of a kind (the very best kind) and I carry you in my heart.
Until we meet again my friend.
|making popcorn in Nanaimo (oops!)|
|Scott and I getting down to "Pound the Alarm" to tease Lydia|
|fave place at Kits Beach|
Saturday, January 11, 2014
The early bus is full of sleepy babes, lids heavy with last night's dreams. Joining us in our daily routine, their presence is evidence of an easy trust. Untucked, then dressed, sometimes combed and usually fed, they head into the that world we give them. An hour from now they will be pirates, writers, builders, mathematicians, and rowdy little question askers. But for now, on this plodding bus, they are sleepy babies by whom the world has yet to be touched.