Monday, June 29, 2015

{ time travel } yogi. mama. writer. photographer. austin, tx

I woke up to harsh light and a tender touch.
It was so early and I didn't understand why I was being taken out of bed.
Everyone was in the living room, sitting on the blue sheet with white daisies.
There were finger foods spread out like a picnic.
What time was it?
I was so young I couldn't really conceive of time anyway.
The den was so dark and our tan bodies were making alien outlines against the light linens.
When I ate a grape it soured as it mingled with the toothpaste still fresh in my mouth.
Still blurry eyed and confused I spit it out.
They laughed and I didn't really know why, but I liked the attention.
Why was everyone else so alert?
What family was this, all together and in the semi-dark.
I liked them a lot, enough to bottle them like this in my mind forever.
Gangly and a little pushy, but close knit and smiling.
I wished that the food tasted better.
Eventually it started to be clear and still made no sense.
This middle-of-the-night feast was completely spontaneous, a wild hare my mom had.

It remains one of my favorite childhood memories of all time.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

{ a good man and a good woman } - yogi. child. writer. lover. austin, tx

She loved to sit in her chair and watch Jeopardy! with her feet up.
Her laugh was ridiculous and contagious.
I always had to look at her face when they argued, and her mischievous sparkling eyes gave her away.
They may have fought, but I never saw a real one.

He liked to grumble and murmur while he puttered around.
When he made his way to his chair near her it wasn't long before his head would drop and his snores began.

After he passed we were sitting there one afternoon and she looked around at their living room, took it in.
With a sigh she said to me "you know he used to come home every day and call out to me "Sally, I'm home!" just to let me know so I wouldn't be surprised. Now I'm never going to hear "Sally I'm home" again." With that the room fell silent. I don't really know if I was the only one there, but I remember it as just the two of us. I had no words to give her back, simply admiration and a heart full of hope that I'd one day know that great of a love.

Me-Maw, you made life more fun.
Thank you for giving me Twix and Hersey with almonds.
It's because of you that I have my name and my love of pineapple juice.
Your humor and strong nature inspire me.
Nothing compares to the way you loved your man and your boys.
Sometimes I secretly wished I had been a boy so I'd feel that special.
I felt spoiled when you took me shopping.
You made the best chicken spaghetti and chili with rice.
When you introduced me as "my namesake" I felt proud.
I know you're foggy now and it's hard to remember me.
I tell your stories to my girls and I try to do the special things just like you.
You gave me baby oil after a bath and Buttered Pecan ice cream.
I watched Winnie The Pooh and To Kill A Mockingbird with you.
If I had my way I would sit with you and ask you all my burning questions...

"Tell me how y'all met and all the good things that come from loving someone for a lifetime."

I remember the last thing you said to me about him, "he was a good, good man."

Me-Maw, you are one really good woman.

Friday, June 26, 2015

{ conversation } yogi. lover. mama. photographer. austin, tx.

When we talked it was flawless, like feeding quarters to a slot machine I thought eventually I'd win.
You gave back then held back, repeat.
You looked me in the eyes and said to me "we have to communicate, that's the only way this will work."
Hesitantly I acknowledged and agreed to share even the most uncomfortable and minute of details.

"I don't know what just happened, but I promised to to tell you if something ever bothered me and...well...that did."

I kept my word. I felt childish and petty, but I told you when something wasn't right.
Time ticked and life kept going, I was happy, ignorantly happy.
"Babe, can you come in here, we need to talk."

I can't write dialogue for this because it never happened.
It ends with questions and only questions.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

{ cry to the stars } - yogi. mama. photographer. lover. writer. austin, tx

I dressed up in two pair of sweat pants and a flannel shirt and laid myself down in the front yard.
I looked up to the sky and she danced for me in her sparkling skirt of stars.
The grass damp against my back and dreams so alive in my mind.
I watched her twirl and the stars fell from her garment and spilled down my cheeks.
I wiped the shimmer away with the back of my hand and cuff of my shirt.
To be so young and feel so much was a challenge.
I could get lost in the vast darkness, I believed the grass would consume me.
Headlights turned down our drive and my reverie was banished by high beams.
The sky always calls me, she holds open her arms to understand my mystery and emotion.
It was that first night in the lawn of the country house that I let her hold me, and I understood my favorite song.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

{ feng shui } - yogi. mama. wanderer. writer. austin, tx.

There are people who know exactly why they like what they like.
Sometimes I know, most of the time it's strictly opinion I can't define.
I always know.
Some things just don't belong around me and I get irritated by the thought.
The pink dresser had to go and the bookcase should've been gone over two years ago.
This is a chance to begin with things that truly make me happy, things that feel good.
I've named her Haven and I'm mama in the nest.
The feeling is warm and light, the scent is intoxicating.
Every surface offers new sensation to your touch.
Luminous and graceful, she'll draw you in.
Her vibe is strong and comforting.
It's so hard to get everything just right, it may take a while.
Until it's the way I want it, less is most certainly more.
I've pruned and picked, I won't let anything near her until my heart says "yes!"
What these walls will see and hear will be bliss, happy people, mad love, and soft hearts.
Welcome home love, it's taken a long time to get here, but you did it.
Allow in only the purest of brilliance and let love flow out with abandon.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

{ pushing } - mama. yogi. writer. photographer. austin, tx

I push, it's kind of my "thing."
I'm pushing myself to write this now.
She called me a bull in a china cabinet more times than I can remember.
Strong willed, stubborn, hard headed, difficult, they all made the cut.

I'm not discontent, I push because I'm passionate.
Even passion needs to be tempered, so I'm pushing myself to slow down and be mindful.
I took deep breath yesterday and today was graceful.
Still there was the same old me saying "go, go, can do anything."
I like my determination and guts.
I haven't enjoyed the fine tuning at all times but I can see the reason.
It's only because of this self-pressure that I am here today.
I'm living a life that I love and none of it happened by luck.

I want to delete. God this writing is hard, but again I made a promise and I won't quit.

When I brought each of my daughters into this world the effort seemed like teamwork.
I think that's what life is about, finding those who will hold on when the pressure comes.
We are like caterpillars who are lucky enough to go through chrysalis with a partner.
Through life and experience I'm learning more about when to accept that I can't force everything.
More importantly, that I don't want to.

Monday, June 22, 2015

{ very little } - yogi. writer. mama. austin, tx.

You said for me to write, to let things pour out.
Jack, I trust you and I'm writing.
You're right, it feels awkward and I stumble with words and running sentences.
You're also right when you say that I have to keep going.
Stories and memories mix up, what was real and what was my fantasy?
I guess that's where I always end up, back at my roots when my feet were filthy and I ran among horses and through fields.
I pretend to be there when I feel lost, I look straight up because the sky looks the same from here.
If I really bare all, I know the moment I began to question the earth under me.
There was one world and suddenly it was gone.
That's why I always go back to times before that.
I go back to the smell of the Guadalupe River and Kerrville, TX.
After back surgery I found that again.
Maybe the titanium really does make me bionic.
I sat in their yard and planned my journey back to myself.
This is where I belong, I feel it. My soul thrives here and I'm me again.
The thing about writing on here is how close I come to deleting every word.
"It's all rambling tonight" I say, "I should probably write a story."
You know I love memoirs the most and mine is pretty much a rambling prose.
I can tell you that I have played this life, I cherish my tribe, and it all matters...

Saturday, June 20, 2015

{ I stopped calling you daddy } - daughter. yogi. mama. austin, tx

Dad I'm so thankful that you and mom gave me life. I try to say it often and I hope you hear it, I love you.
I remember playing with june bugs when you left for a City Council meeting, I admired your beard.
I sat on your lap in the tractor and watched you churn the earth to prepare for a plant.
You let me slide down with the rice into dryer and I can clearly recall the worry across your face.
Thank you for pushing me on the tire swing and taking me out to see alligator nests.
The creek house was mutually enchanting and terrifying and would be that way to me even as a teen.
I'm sorry for the year I stopped talking to you.
I'm sorry I was a fifteen year old brat who blamed you for secrets I was ashamed of.
Dad I know I broke your heart and I'm so glad you've never given up on me.
Thank you for teaching me how I should be loved.
You let me drive a tractor, fly a plane, and shoot a pistol.
Thank you for trusting me.
You pour love into my life, my girl's lives, and you dote on everyone you can.
I'm a better person because of you.
I can remember many times you saying "I'm proud of you."
Daddy, I'm proud to be yours.

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

{ i wrote } - yogi. lover. mama. writer. austin, tx

I sent a text that summed up my heart state. I was proud of the progress and the words came out poetic.
Along with so much, the text has been deleted.
I'm not fearless, but I'm not giving up.
I read this book over the weekend that reminded me to smile again and appreciate my strong will.
I remembered how I'm stubborn, savvy, indulgent, and nurturing and I can appreciate that those are good qualities.
I love real big and I take care of what I love. I care about details. I'm currently obsessed with rugs and I will always be obsessed with pretty shoes.
I had lunch with a friend and closed my eyes to taste each dish. I like short red fingernails and freshly shaven legs.
There is too much inside me and it can't all get out, it's not all requited and some is unwelcome.
None of it is wrong and I have to remind myself that part.
I've got the most and I've lost much.
I'm strong for this life, strong for my loves, and strong for me.
One grateful day at a time my friends.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

{ you called me } - writer. lover. yogi. austin, tx

Oh my sweet girl.
I want to kiss you where it hurts and dab the tears from your cheeks.
I'd give anything to take this pain from you, press my healing hand to your wound.
Tender baby, don't fear.
Close your eyes and you'll see my arms wrap you up, stroke your hair, and lay a kiss to your temple.
Because I've seen your strength I know you'll be more than okay, you will thrive.
Let me be your safety.
Until you've cried all your salty tears and your body ceases to tremble, I'll hold you.
When you've crossed through the fear of dreaming and found sleep, I'll still be next to you.
Tiny lover so frail.
I'm here with you at the center of the earth, remember my chamber and the plush cushions.
Come sneak inside and crawl into my lap, lay your head at my breast and unleash your sobs.
Darling baby girl.
Blue silk, velvet, fur, and all of the softest things will touch your skin and secure you.
Breathe with me angel, squeeze me as tightly as you need until all the hurt is out.
I know you're tired of being strong, fall apart in my den and let me cleanse each injured piece.
You don't have to be bright and held together, shatter and I'll hold space for your sparkling fragments.