Why do I feel like I’m always saying goodbye to my friends?

First, you should go here and read this post. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Done?

OK, good. Now, about a year after I wrote that, Gail and her husband moved to Georgia because his job relocated him. She didn’t give me any forwarding address information, so I’ve been out of touch with her for quite some time. I’ve tried really hard to find her, with no luck. They have a relatively common last name, so searching the state of Georgia for them was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

A few weeks ago, I got a message on Myspace - an account that I almost never used - from her. I was thrilled! I sent a super-excited message back to her, saying that I should kick her butt for not sending me her info when she moved, and that I’d looked at her pictures and couldn’t believe how big her girls were and omigosh, she should call me, blah blah. I was really wound up and happy to hear from her.

The response I got from her was akin to a slap in the face. She told me she’d found me a few months earlier, but didn’t contact me “because of my beliefs”. She then went on to tell me about her brother-in-law who had recently renounced his Christianity, left his wife for another woman, started practicing paganism, and tore her mother-in-law apart. I sat here slack-jawed for a few minutes, and then told her I would need some time before I responded.

After a couple days, I e-mailed her back and told her that I was not her brother-in-law, and thought that it was unfair for her to judge me based on his actions. I also mentioned that I know a lot of Christians who make really rotten decisions and tear their families apart, and I don’t judge her because of them.

What bothered me more than anything, though, was that she told me she’d always be there for me. “Never lose me” was what she said to me when I was scared and feeling vulnerable, and then she turned around and used the very thing against me that I was afraid of sharing with her.

I went in to Myspace today to tell her this and discovered that she’d removed me without a word. Apparently, my feeling that the friendship had been damaged beyond repair was mutual, only she had no intention of telling me as much. After all we’ve been through together, I didn’t even deserve that much from her. I guess our friendship meant more to me than it did to her. I guess, after all these years, I held on to a lot more love and affection for her than she did for me, and that really hurts.

With all the shit that I have going on in my life right now, the last thing I needed was to lose another friend. And her girls.. Nashay, my god, I love that child like she’s my own. I haven’t seen her since she was about eight, and she’s 14 now, but the thought of never seeing her again just rips my heart out. That I won’t see her graduate from high school or college, get married, have children of her own.. I never even considered that I wouldn’t get to be a part of her life somehow, even though it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I love Kayla, too, and I’ll miss her, too.. I just never got to bond with her like I did with Shay, and I never got to meet Allie, the youngest one.

I’d like to crawl in a hole and stay there for awhile until all the hurty stuff goes away.

I know you don’t understand now, but this is why:

Love you.

Shylah

Every night, when I come to bed, you’re over on my side, sprawled out across my pillows, your little six-year-old body taking up an entire queen-sized bed somehow. I nudge you and tell you to get over on your pillow, over on your side, and some nights, you get this unbearably cute grin on your face as you re-settle yourself on the other side of the bed. It’s so pure and sweet, because I don’t think you’re really awake, even though you can respond to me if I say something to you. Last night, I kissed your cheeks and murmured, “precious girl,” and you responded with, “precious mama,” just before you drifted back off. I think my heart exploded into a million pieces.

You are slowly starting to take an interest in learning about my spirituality. You’ve been kinda closed off up until now, not really interested in participating or hearing stories and such. You’ve been absorbing, though. I’m learning that you know a lot more than I give you credit for, and that I just need to let you express that in your own ways. To others, those ways seem subtle, but when I pay attention, they really stand out. It’s amazing how much I’m learning from you in all of this.

I think you must have been a cat in a former life, because nowadays, when you get mad at me, you hiss at me, as is evidenced in the above photo. The funny thing about this is that when you’re really mad, you try to hiss really loudly, and instead it sounds more like you’re trying to hock up something from the back of your throat. That I try so hard not to laugh when you do this only irritates you more.

And on this day, babygirl.. this second anniversary of when your beloved Poppy crossed over to the Summerland, I’m going to try not to be sad. I’m going to put that energy in to remembering how much he loved you, how his face lit up whenever you entered the room. I’m going to remember him eating peaches on the floor like puppies with you. I’m going to remember how much you loved riding around the block on his bus. Most of all, I’m going to remember that that’s his bellybutton, but tickle it anyway.

Love,
Mama

Just before the Maypole Dance, Beltane 2008

May we live more wisely within our overlapping ecosystems.
May we cherish anew the wonder of clean waters and fresh winds.
May we more wisely tend and respect the animals and plants that nourish us.
May the sacred fires of Beltane guide us into new paths of hope.
- Kathleen Jenks

kitten: Hey! You’re not here!
shylah: You’re right I’m not. You’re talking to the not-me, which is - as indicated by its name, not me.
kitten: Lol. Excellent. You’re as crazy as me.
shylah: Because I would never screw up the punctuation like the not-me just did in that sentence.
kitten: Of course not.
kitten: So, not-me, who is also not me, who are you?
shylah: I am not-me, of course. Who else would I be?
kitten: We’ll, the not-me who is sometimes me is Saint kitten the Great.
shylah: That would be an awesome me to be.

AUP had a yard sale a couple weekends ago, and when it was over, they gave me a bunch of the leftover jeans and asked me to make purses. Whooo, did I make purses! Each one has been a little bit better than the one before it, in terms of crafstmanship, too. I love these things!

(more…)

I was talking to Jennifer’s four-year-old son yesterday and he gave me a fascinating bit of information.

Jaden: Do you know what fake blood is made of?
Me: No, what?
Jaden: Ketchup.
Me: Wow, really?
Jaden: Yes. So, memember. Fake blood is made of ketchup and real blood is made of ketchup and deodorant.
Me: Deodorant, huh?

I love that kid. She has three kids, and I know I’m not supposed to pick favourites, but I’ve known him since he was a teeny baby, and man, I could just eat him up.

“Melt & Pour soap can be whipped into a smooth mouse-like substance..”

I discovered today that there is a plugin for Wordpress that makes it compliant with mobile browsers. Normally, I wouldn’t care about such a plugin, but I know that Lili reads from her Blackberry a lot, so I installed it, hoping it might make it a little easier to view the site.

Let me know what you think, Lili? I checked it from my cell phone, and it’s totally stripped of everything, but I don’t know if it’ll be different on your Blackberry. If you liked it better before the plugin, let me know and I’ll zap it.

My friend Eldene made Emily a purse for her sixth birthday out of an old pair of jeans. I have coveted that purse since the moment I saw it. Last night, I asked Jennifer if I could have an old pair of her jeans, because I wanted to make one myself, using Emily’s as a pattern.

Unfortunately, I could not find Emily’s purse, so I decided to totally wing it. For once, I didn’t screw it up!

My favourite part? I can make different “belts” for it that match my mood and/or the season!

Emily and I are in Portland right now, visiting her daddy for Spring Break.

In lieu of an actual post, I bring you photos.

The front of Powell’s, the largest Independent Bookstore in the world. I could live there. We got to go there yesterday, and I’ll get to go back again before we leave to pick up some books I ordered from their website. *cue choir of angels singing*

Pillar outside Powell’s. I love the “Carpe Librum”. I want to seize all the books and run away with them! (Sorry it’s crooked; I had to snap the photo in between passing pedestrians.)

On Monday, we went to OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry), which had a dinosaur exhibit. Here, Emily is digging for dinosaur bones in a pile of “sand” (it’s actually kitty litter.)

Prenatal development exhibit at OMSI. This one was simultaneously fascinating and heartbreaking because the embryos and fetuses in the exhibit were real ones. It was incredible to see real fetal development, not just an artist rendering, but each one, ranging from a few days post-conception, all the way (incredibly) to 32 weeks, represented someone’s loss. Some of them even included the uterus, indicating possible maternal death or, at the very least, hysterectomy. Those made me cry.

We all had to wear goggles in the Chemistry Lab at OMSI. Doesn’t Em have the greatest expression here?

Snow-covered Mount Shasta. Isn’t she beautiful? Typically, mountains are considered masculine, but I can’t help but view Shasta as feminine. I think it’s because the Earth is feminine, and because Shasta is a volcano, and therefore has a core that reaches down into the core of the Earth, she is, in my mind, an extension of Mother Earth. (I don’t know where that thought process came from, but there you have it.)