Earth Mother

Where is Earth Mother -
Who held lovers, sons,
Daughters, and worlds - 
Held them all close to her
Bosom?
Did you last see her
In calico frock -
Garlands laced through tresses
With a smile on her lips
And a star in her eyes - 
Is that where you last saw
Earth Mother?

Did you last see her
Cradle the Earth
Kiss the bruises of man
And hug them tight - 
Only to weep for us all;
Is that where you last saw
Earth Mother?

I can't say for sure -
My memory's dim
But the last time I looked
I'm sure -
I saw a slight figure
Rounding a trail
With "the bird" of the world
And a whistle from her lips
She just walked by -

Wearing her $40 Nike's!

l.c.w.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It is officially Earth Week!

I know it's been a loooooong time since I've posted much on this blog. It was a good way to cope with the less than ideal situation that was Russia. But honestly, life in America was nice and healing (Christmas in Disney World doesn't hurt too much) and life here in China hasn't been too bad either.

But I couldn't resist reviving An Accord of Dreamers--I'm a hippie in my heart and Earth Day is an important day... though everyday should technically be Earth Day, don't you think? It's especially hard living in China where you see first hand the damage that people can do to our Giant Blueberry. Littering is more common than breathing over here and it kills me. My Gramma Aw always instilled in me, "Don't litter!" so whenever I see someone--young or old--toss trash on the ground or I see the harsh black smoke billowing into the air as people burn coal, a little bit of me dies inside.

Anyway, I won't go into a tirade about how climate change is our biggest enemy in today's day and age or how you should all vote for Bernie Sanders because he's the only candidate that will actually do something to save our Giant Blueberry **hint**

Instead, I want to celebrate Earth Week by bringing this blog back to life at least for a little bit. Each day, I will share Earth Mother--my topless, lavender hair, Nike wearing Earth Mother originally created by my Gramma Aw.

This poem is called Earth Mother and it was written 30 or 40 years ago... I wish there was a date on it. I loved it so much when I first read it, I designed the Earth Mother I saw in my mind to go along with the poem--it is a Wee Woomer Women Creation!

These next few blog posts will be in honor of my Gramma Aw. While she is still Here on our Giant Blueberry, I know her mind and spirit are already There, no matter what the dementia and the doctors might say to convince me otherwise.

This picture is a few years old... Look! I'm still a blondie.

She was my tutor and my mentor growing up. She taught me to respect the Earth and stand silently in the forest. She taught me to listen. She taught me to just be. She is still my inspiration. She is my Earth Mother.

a.r.w.

Notes

missing you each day

gentle music notes make me

miss you even more

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I went to church for the first time today since Jed died. Needless to say, it did not go too well... But we got a poem out of it so that's a plus. 

a.r.w.

Tears

i think of you and

my tears start watering the

flowers of my soul

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

At least that's what I tell myself on days like this... Definitely my hardest day since arriving in Russia and I am ready to head home where I know my tears and grief can begin to be understood.

 

a.r.w.

Pearls

I stood in silence, watching him as he retrieved a box from the other side of the room and returned to me and placed it in my hands. “A gift for you,” he declared with a whisper that once again made me shiver—it was as if his voice was made of ice.

I looked at him suspiciously for a moment before I looked down at the velvet box in my hands. Slowly lifting the top, I gasped as I looked down at the string of black pearls, strung into a necklace.

Looking back up at him, I must have had quite an amusing look on my face because he threw his head back and laughed at me. “I like to keep you on your toes,” he joked as he lifted the necklace from its box. “For you, my dear.”

I looked at the gift in his hands, then back up at him. We were one step away from being enemies and nowhere near close enough to be considered friends. Gift giving was not in our nature and I didn’t trust him.

He could either sense my trepidation or simply read my thoughts (neither would have surprised me at that moment). He smiled, entertained by me, I guess. “You’ll want to think about wearing this,” he assured me.

“Why?”

“It will help to keep you alive.” Simple. But effective.

I didn’t want to trust him but I was reminded of how he healed me after the Forsaken attack. If he wished me ill, he would have just left me out there with them, easily forgotten as if I never existed. But he didn’t. He came after me. For some strange reason he cared about this whole thing—this bet.

Slowly—not liking the idea of taking my eyes off of him for even a second—I turned my back to him. I could sense his smile as his fingers gently brushed against my neck, his touch leaving an icy trail along my skin. He collected my long auburn hair in his hand and softly placed it over my shoulder, careful not to pull a single hair. His cold hands unclasped the hook of the pearl necklace and he slowly wrapped it around my neck, locking it into place. His hands remained on my shoulders for a moment longer than needed, making the hair on my arms stand on end.

“It’s beautiful,” I admitted to him as I quickly turned back around—that was all the trust I had within me for the day. “But what exactly will it do?”

“You know how they say a cat has nine lives?”

“Yes.” I nodded my head not sure where this was going or how it connected with my question.

“Well, think of these as your nine lives… Though I think you’ll need more than just nine,” he explained. “If you ever find yourself in a mess and something happens to you, one of these,” he tapped a pearl, “will absorb the damage. Where you would have died, a pearl will vanish.”

“Whoa,” I whispered, looking down at the mundane little pearls in awe. He was right—I should think about wearing these little guys.

“Whoa, indeed,” he echoed, his eyes continuing to watch me intently. “The Betwixt is a dangerous place, Rebecca. I can’t have you dying on me anytime soon. If you do, your damn angel will kill me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

And with that, NaNoWriMo has officially begun! This month will be crazy, busy, and super hectic on top of work and NaNo and life just having a way of getting into trouble.

 

NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month where you have 30 days to write 50,000 words and for the 6th year in a row, I am going to attempt it... though this is my first time trying to do it with a full time job and a husband! My story is about a girl named Becks who is caught in the middle of a bet between her guardian angel and the god of death. Here, Lord Death gives her a sort of insurance policy for protection in the Betwixt.

 

Where I tried to keep the posts spooky and scary in October in honor of Halloween, this month, most of (if not all of) my posts will be bits of writing from throughout the day. Enjoy! And happy writing to my fellow NaNoers.

 

a.r.w.

Cleanse

water cleanses souls

brings life and renews the sick

no shame in your tears

*~*~*~*~*~*

Still in a bit of a rough patch but much better than yesterday... That has to do with the ridiculous selfless love of my husband, wise words from my mama, and the support that you guys showed. It means a lot... Being away from almost everyone you love during the hardest part of your life is no walk in the park, that's for sure!

 

I almost didn't post anything today for lack of time and inspiration but Adam almost lost it and demanded that I go to my computer and create something (thanks, babe!). So here is a haiku to try and tell myself that it's okay to cry and to try and not be ashamed of my emotions--they are the result of a deep love. I hope you never feel shame in your tears either.

 

I also made this epically goofy spider crown to make with my kindergarteners tomorrow. I cannot friggin' wait. So that's TWO creations for you today!

 

 

Hang in there, folks. Halloween is just 11 days away...

a.r.w.

Hold Me

strings hold me togeth’r

to keep me from falling ‘part

they’re made of barbed wire

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I had a rough time today missing Jed. I'm not sure what sparked it... and honestly, I don't think I ever do. It's hard to always smile and laugh for everyone around you when all you want to do is collapse. I overestimated myself, I think. This is harder than I could have ever imagined.

 

Hopefully tomorrow will be easier.

 

a.r.w.

Yellow Bird

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There is this joke in my family that goes back eight years now to my Uncle Tony's 50th and my cousin Ashley's 16th birthday cruise in the Caribbean--a joke about a yellow bird. When someone gets easily distracted by something, you shout, "Hey look! A yellow bird!" This joke started with one of the comedians on the ship and (like most things in my family), it just took on a life of it's own over the years.

 

There are two kinds of birds in Novosibirsk that I have seen in the last month and a half--crows and pigeons (such is city life)... That is, until today. Today I've been seeing little yellow finches everywhere!

 

I woke up this morning to see one sitting on my window ledge. Later, one almost flew in through my open window. Walking to the post office I saw five more! And as I sat down to start writing this post, another one landed on my window ledge and just stared in at me. I actually like to think that it's just one finch and that he's followed me around like a little familiar.

 

And of course, I always think back to that message Jed gave to us through my mom's friend, Nadine: Look for me in feathers. Of course the first thing that popped into my mind was that Jed was following me, helping me pick up mom's package. Whether it's a "sign" from Jed or not--who knows? But I do know that I love seeing and being distracted by these colorful little birdies.

 

Hey look! A yellow bird!

 

a.r.w.

Sow

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Six months. It seems impossible, but somehow I have managed to continue living six months after my baby brother breathed his last breath. There were moments and even days when I didn't want to... Why would I want to live another 50 years with this pain and grief--this massive hole in my heart that could never possible begin to be filled? But somehow, I've managed... Because I know Jed wants me to.

 

Again, I use the present tense for a very special reason--because Jed is still with me, trying to help me, guide me, and comfort me even though I can't see him. And he shows himself to me in signs (you can scoff if you want... But those who have gone through any kind of deep, painful loss will know that our loved ones never leave us alone and are always reaching out to us in little ways that prick our hearts).

 

When people think of Jed, they might think of the color red (Red for Jed) or balloons or even feathers. When I think of him, I instantly think of acorns.

 

When he was a little boy, we gave Jed an acorn to help him overcome his fear of going to school. Again, we gave him an acorn the night before his surgery to give him courage--because mighty oaks from tiny acorns grow. It gave him the courage to walk into surgery and it gave him courage through the next two days where he fought frantically for his life... and he died with that damned acorn clutched tightly in his hand... I still have it.

 

So for me, it's an acorn.

 

I've permanently put an acorn on my body, hidden behind my ear. My early love for Peter Pan and the "kiss" he gives to Wendy soon became painfully ironic when I got my own hidden kiss the day Jed and I were supposed to go and get tattoos together.

 

 

Wherever I go, I search for acorns. Is it a sign from Jed? Not necessarily. But the minute I see one, I think of him and in my thoughts, he is there with me and sometimes that is enough.

 

On my honeymoon and in Russia

 

But sometimes, I do think it is a sign... like today.

 

After a rough day (the 8th will always be hard), and just ten minutes after I had painted these three acorns in memory of Jed, I was walking back to work. As I was walking, something orange caught my eye. It was a plastic acorn lying on the sidewalk. I stopped, turned around, and went back to pick it up. To me, THAT was a message from Jed. I've walked back and forth along that path for almost a month and a half now and never have I seen anything other than broken bottles and cigarette butts. Here, six months (almost to the minute) after Jed's passing from Here to There, and just a few minutes after I painted these acorns, I happen to walk directly over this plastic orange (Jed's favorite color) acorn.

 

I'm not a real believer in "You reap what you sow." Jed sowed so much good and got screwed over in my not so humble opinion. But it got me thinking today...

An acorn is a seed that can be sowed to make a mighty oak. Jed was that acorn. He never did become that mighty oak (Life never even gave him the chance). But he sowed and sowed and sowed GOOD into people. And if you sow enough, soon you can bring in a bountiful harvest. I think the good that Jed sowed in his laughter, his kindness, his goofiness, and his epic determination and stamina will be the greatest harvest any of us will ever have the privilege to see. For years--as long as people think of Jed, say his name, and remember how he made them feel--that harvest will continue to come in and the forest of mighty oaks that he planted in each of our hearts will continue to spread and grow.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn."  Jed was that little acorn. And we are his forest.

a.r.w.

 

 



Drunken Dreams

drunken dreams have i

just to see your face again,

is that what it takes?

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Last night I had my first dream about Jed since I got married. Before then, I didn't have them too often but often enough to help me through the days, weeks, and months that passed after April 8th. I could tell the difference between regular dreams and visits where I know Jed sought me out to talk to me and spend time with me. But after I got married, not once did I see, hear, or feel Jed in any of my dreams.

 

Until last night.

 

It was short and he was there for only a moment. Piff the Magic Dragon (yes, from America's Got Talent) was doing a show for us and Jed was sitting in a chair beside me, his bald head covered in his blue knit cap I bought him (that's almost always how I see him). All I did was look over at him and ask him, "You really liked him, didn't you?" It was short and sweet and all I needed.

 

I started thinking why it was that I dreamt of Jed last night after all these weeks. What changed? What happened? I don't think it was a visit, just a regular dream where I got to see his face once more. After I thought about it, I came to the realization that I went to bed a bit tipsy last night (it was our teacher's day celebration at work and we had wine, laser tag, Georgian food, and more wine).

 

After Jed's death, I spent the next four months in a drunken haze. Not a day went by that I didn't drink alcohol at one point and many times I would polish off a bottle or two a night by myself. I'm not proud of that fact, but it helped to numb the pain a bit and at that point I didn't care what would be considered right or wrong... all I cared about was getting myself through the day. And in those drunken days, I dreamt of my brother so much more than my sober moments.

 

I'm not saying I'll return to my days of drinking heavily (at least not on a regular basis) but I do miss my dreams with my baby bro bro... so it was nice to have a quick chance to see his face again... even if it was just in my dreams...

 

a.r.w.

Beautiful

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I like to think of the Earth as a phoenix at this time of year. Everything bursts into a colorful, beautiful blaze just before it dies... much like the phoenix bursts into flames before being reborn from the ashes.

 

Autumn shows me that death is not quite as scary as we sometimes think it is. It shows me that there can be such a thing as a beautiful death. Death is not a glamorous thing. It is messy, scary, and traumatizing to witness. At the very surface of it all, beautiful seems like the very last thing it would be.

 

I think what makes death beautiful is when someone's life is beautiful. My brother's death was not a beautiful, peaceful, "slip away" sort of death. As my mom says, "He went out swinging." I would not consider Jed's death to be beautiful... but goodness gracious his life was a  masterpiece. He lived life with such a fire and his desire to live life to the fullest, all the way to the very end, is both admirable and beautiful.

 

What Jed's death showed me was that death has the potential to be beautiful but what's even more beautiful is the life you lived and how you live on even after death in the hearts and minds of those that you managed to touch while on this planet. 

 

I'm always dazzled by this time of year--a beautiful transition from life to death. And while I, too, am in a transitional phase in my life, this season is taking on a whole new meaning for me. It's a beautiful time of year and it shows me that beauty can be found in the most unlikely of places--such as loss, tragedy, and even death.

I was playing with my watercolors and decided to try something from kindergarten. These are trees made from blowing air through a straw. I love how they turned out! Each one is unique! Give it a try--it's super easy and fun.

Only 28 days until Halloween!

a.r.w.

Bewilder

"Hello?" A voice called out through the house, shattering the silence of the night. "Is there anyone here?"

Verona's eyes widened at the sound of the voice. It had been years since her parents left her all alone in this house and she had not seen or heard a soul since. The voices did not frighten her as they might have when she was a child--voices meant visitors and visitors meant that she would not spend the night alone again.

Leaping up from where she was laying on her bed, Verona ran down the hall and peered down into the darkness.

There were three young men, all dressed in black, wandering around the house, calling out... calling out to her.

"Verona, we know you're here!" the one standing in the middle--clearly the leader of the group--called out, his voice booming off the old walls.

"Who are you?" Verona asked curiously as she made her way down the stairs.

"Shh!" one of them hissed. "Did you hear something?"

"No," the other two shook their heads.

Verona let out a confused laugh as she paused in her march down the stairs.

She continued to watch the men; they seemed to be unaware of her presence.

"Hello?" she tried again.

"Okay, now I know I heard something!" the one who had heard her before shouted again as they pointed something her way. She had never seen such a contraption before.

"Verona," the leader turned towards the stairs again, his hands clasped together as if he was begging her to do something, "is that you on the stairs?"

"Yes," she grumbled; she was starting to get frustrated with these men.

"If you are here, show yourself to us."

"I'm right here!" she called out as she ran down the stairs, ignoring their outbursts of, "Did you hear that?" "It sounded like someone was walking down the stairs!"

They continued to watch the place where she had just been standing on the stairs, the black boxes and contraptions in their hands.

"What's going on?" she whispered to herself, suddenly feeling panic rise up in her chest.

She looked around her, searching for something that made sense when her eyes fell upon the mirror hanging in the entryway of her home. She gasped as her eyes locked on the face of the mirror and saw nothing of her own reflection.

Looking down at her lacy, long white dress and brown boots, she spun around to look at the three men in their black pants and shirts with sleeves that showed their arms and strange shoes on their feet that didn't resemble the black boots the other men in her town would wear.

"What--?" she let out a scream as her legs gave out from under her and she collapsed to the floor.

Behind her closed eyes she could hear the sound of the men panicking and shouting to one another. Glancing up, she spotted another one of the strange boxes in their hands lighting up as it pointed towards her. After a moment, she realized that one of the men--the one who had continued to hear her--stood before her. He didn't exactly look down at her, but she knew deep down that he knew she was there.

"Verona?" his voice was soft and smooth as he said her name. It wasn't the harsh commanding tone his friend had; he spoke to her almost as if he knew her. "I know you must be confused," he continued as he moved to kneel before her, his hands outstretched just slightly.

"It's cold around you, Jake!" one of the men behind him said. "A twenty degree difference."

The man named Jake lifted his hand just slightly as he called out to his friend, "I can feel it." Lowering his voice once more, he turned to look back at Verona. "I know you've been here, alone, for a very long time."

Tears began to blur her vision of the man in front of her. She was scared and beginning to panic. Not thinking of manners or propriety, she reached out and grabbed the man's hand, clinging to it.

"Jake, what's going on?"

But he ignored his friend's shouts of panic as he felt the cold, tingling sensation of someone--Verona--taking his hand.

"Help me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please..."

"She's scared," he said, his eyes lowered as his grip tightened on hers.

As he lifted his gaze back up, he nearly jumped as the sight of a young girl with flowing blonde hair held back with a ribbon flickered before him before she vanished behind the veil once more.

"Verona?" he whispered her name.

"Yes!" she shouted, for that seemed to be the only way to get their attention. "Yes it's me! Verona Macintosh!"

"Dude, the EMF is going crazy right now!"

She ignored the other two men and looked directly into Jake's eyes. Somehow, he seemed to find her gaze though he could no longer see her. He continued to watch her as she begged one last time, "What's going on?"

A silence continued on through the house and she began to believe that he had not heard her when suddenly his voice called out in the darkness, "We want to help you, Verona. You've been trapped here for over a hundred years--you died 115 years ago..." His voice trailed off as if he could sense her confusion and terror. "You're dead... and we want to help you move on."

Verona shivered, her eyes jumping from one young man to another. DEAD. The word had not crossed her mind as she had sat alone in her house for so many years waiting for someone--anyone--to come walking through her door.

It was almost too much to bear. Throwing her head back, Verona let out a scream of anguish, fear, and confusion. The lights flickered in the house, the mirror shattered, and the three men jumped back in fear.

After a moment when the silence returned to the house, the three men exchanged a glance before the leader muttered, "This is going to be a long night."

Verona rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. "You said it," she sighed as she looked back up at Jake... he was still looking down at her, a small smile on his face. Whether he heard her or not, she didn't know, but there was something about him that told her that he was not a liar--they were here to help her through this nightmare and she hoped that she would be able to make it through the night.

After a minute she paused and almost laughed at her thought. Of course she would survive the night. After all, she was a ghost.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

This is based off of a fun writing prompt called "a bewildering experience." To me, there is nothing more bewildering than the afterlife, ghosts, and the paranormal... especially if you are unknowingly caught in it!

 

I loved the idea of worlds colliding--modern day ghost hunters find a Victorian era ghost. I'm not sure if I'll continue this story... I am a sucker for ill-fated love stories so perhaps Jake and Verona will be able to see each other more throughout their night together and learn that love can cross barriers of time and existence.

 

October is only a few days away! That means two things:

 

1. Almost all of my posts will probably be spooky, Halloween related (what else is new?)

 

2. Work is about to get cuh-razy. They warned us that October is very busy and hectic where we'll be working most Sundays (that's one of my two days off and my other day off is usually taken up with teacher meetings... Boo....). It is my hope that I can still create and post something every day but if I miss a day here or there, please forgive me.

 

a.r.w.

Shine

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

*GASP!*

 

What do you mean Amanda didn't draw the face of a girl? What is this world coming to? What's that outside your window? Did a pig just fly by? It must be the end of days!

 

I drew a picture of me and Adam (yes, this is supposed to be my husband) but I thought he looked way better than I did, so you only get to see his side of the doodle.

 

This is one of my favorite quotes from Roald Dahl from my favorite of his books The Twits. At the very beginning of his book he says, "A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose or a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts, they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely."

 

I remember reading that line as a child and wanting desperately to attain that shine that Mr. Dahl spoke of. For most of my life I made it my mission to be happy, kind to others, and always look on the bright side.

 

Since Jed's passing from Here to There, it's been a lot harder to have good thoughts. I fear that my shine slowly began to fade, shrouded by the sadness and depression I was (and, let's be honest, still am) feeling.

 

It's been up to Adam to keep the good thoughts going. He has been the one to pick me up each time I slip into the darkness, whether he brings home flowers, cooks dinner, makes me laugh, or buys me a new writing desk (EEEEE!!!!!). He's definitely picked up the slack in thinking good thoughts and being happy... because he's doing it for two of us right now.

 

Luckily, sometimes, his good thoughts are so strong and he shines so bright, it makes me smile and shine too. It's been slow, but I am trying to think good thoughts more and more and maybe one day (not so far away), I will shine again.

 

a.r.w.

 

PS: It's now officially fall! Pumpkin spice EVERYTHING.

 

PPS: The only thing better than a beard is a beard made of flowers.

PPPS: I like to throw coffee at my paper. I call it freckled paper! Because nothing in life is perfect--not even white paper. 

Abandon

complete abandon

find yourself in another

ah... so this is love

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It's been two years... two years since I said, "Sure, why not?" and followed him on this crazy ride. It's been two years of laughter and tears, adventures and wrong turns, new food, new friends, and new experiences. The fact that it's only been two years of knowing him blows me away. I found my partner in crime, my travel buddy, my other half, my best friend, my Viking... and all because I went out on a crazy limb and moved to China.

 

I actually drew something to post today but made the mistake of spending twelve hours at work so I never got a chance to color it... So here is a little haiku for my beer chuggin, chicken wing munchin', Disney pin collectin' Viking ♥️

 

a.r.w.

Mom & Dad

 

you ask, "what is love?"

search high and low to find it

I say, "mom and dad."

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

 

A simple haiku in honor of my parent's 29th wedding anniversary.

 

I stand in awe of their love and strength and hope that one day I will come close to having the same as what they have built for themselves.

 

♥️ Happy Anniversary!! ♥️

 

a.r.w.

One Day

everything dies

winds die down and stars burn out

one day i'll join you

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Apologies for having such a short post and one that wasn't written today (but after the super long post from a few days ago, I'm sure you're all thrilled for this shortie!). My schedule was a bit hectic today and I'm only just getting home now. So I opened up my book of collected haikus and found this one that I wrote while on a plane (probably flying to Disney).

 

I never used to be afraid of flying... but now, things that once brought me so much joy, bring such fear. Suddenly, I am painfully aware of just how mortal I am. In some ways I'm more fearless because I no longer fear death (for what a wonderful reunion with my baby bro-bro that will be!) but in other ways I am more fearful because I see just how quickly life can end. And I love life. I don't want it to end. At least not yet.

 

But as I criticized myself for this sudden fear of death, this idea came into my mind. Literally, everything on this planet dies--the wind, the stars, trees, bumble bees, everything. And yet, humans are the only thing that actually, actively thinks about death and dying. We mourn the loss of a loved one, we try to protect ourselves from diseases, accidents, and untimely deaths. We are so focused on worrying about our deaths that sometimes we forget to live our lives... and I am just as guilty.

 

If you actually stop to think how connected everything is in this universe--connected through birth, life, and death--then perhaps death won't be quite as scary... it connects us to the universe's past, present, and future... and I think that's pretty wonderful.

 

a.r.w.

∞

The 8th of every month will always be bittersweet for me and the rest of my family. Bitter because on April 8th, my little brother, Jed, traveled from Here to There and left us with confusion and broken hearts. Sweet because only four months later on August 8th, I married my best friend in my favorite corner of the world surrounded by my family. It's like Life wanted to show us just how it can be--one minute you are crying in pain and the next you are crying in joy.

Today is my first month wedding anniversary (yes we are celebrating with boxed wine, frozen pizza, and Lilo and Stitch... don't judge!) and five months since my brother left Here. Five long, excruciating months. It feels like a lifetime and that terrifies me--if only a few months feels like a torturous lifetime, how on earth am I supposed to endure the next 60 years (if I'm lucky)? Some say "time has gone by so fast" or "it feels like only yesterday." Those of us unfortunate enough to lose a loved one in a tragic sort of way (or any loved one for that matter) will tell you, no... it does not feel like yesterday. Each day is a lifetime, each day is a struggle... But you get through because you know your loved one would want you to.

So in celebration of this bittersweet day, here are two doodles and haikus for you--one is bitter and one is sweet just like the day.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

 

From the date, you can see I didn't create this today... This was back when I first started writing haikus to try and get through the stress of watching my brother go through cancer treatment and it has proved to be quite fruitful.

 

Love is a fickle, funny thing. In some ways it imprisons us. We are now bound to be with one person for the rest of our lives. We are not always free to roam the world or do exactly what we want all the time. It's about sacrifice and negotiation. Love binds us and makes us want to grow roots instead of wings... But love also sets us free. We are able to be ourselves with not a worry in the world. We have a place to call home and someone to share our experiences, fears, and dreams with. I love love. I love the man I am in love with. I love me. I love my life (most of the time). And I love this happy prison I have come to make into my happy home.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

 

I'll be honest (plus you can tell from the date), I did not create this today either but it so beautifully captures how I have chosen to cope with the tragically early death of my brother.

 

On May the Fourth [Be With You], I was watching Star Wars and in The Empire Strikes Back, Yoda is talking about the Force and life and at one point he says the words:

 

Luminous beings are we... Not this crude matter!

 

And it was like a light going off in my mind. I was so angry and bitter about Jed's death less than a month before. I felt as if he had been cheated (and in a way I still do) but these words somehow made the blow to my heart a bit more bearable. We are not just our bodies. It's like that quote from C.S. Lewis: You are not a body with a soul. You are a soul with a body. Jed was not his long, skinny, olive toned body that had once been so strong only to be ravaged by chemotherapy. Yes, his body was gone, but his spirit--that luminous aspect of who he is--was still here, surrounding us with his love. This shell that we bumble through this world in is just that--a shell. It is what moves that shell and makes it think and feel that matters. We are all luminous beings... Jed just realized his true form long before my parents or I could. Someone as kind and good as him would become luminous before me!

 

It is my hope that this haiku and the wisdom from Master Yoda comforts the hearts of anyone grieving someone they have lost. In the darkest part of my life, it was a light that reached out and saved me... even if just a little bit.

 

a.r.w.

 

 

P.S. For those of you disappointed that I didn't create anything today, here is a haiku I wrote walking home from work today where the dirt is just littered with beer bottles:

 

Shards of glass 'neath me

Like a path made of starlight

Wherever I go

Ghost

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

I suppose I should warn you now: I tend to like the macabre. All my life, I've been obsessed with Halloween, anything spooky, and the paranormal/supernatural. Despite my overly peppy and optimistic personality that I choose to show to other people, inside I have bats flying in my soul, black cats hopping from rib to rib, and a full moon hangs where my heart should be. Since the death of my brother, my obsession with the macabre and morbid is on overdrive. So if you get tired of the dark/spooky/weird posts, just look at it as me prepping you for Halloween (because it is NEVER too early!).

 

Once again, I found inspiration while I was walking through Novosibirsk yesterday. I was walking with a coworker and we were exchanging book titles that we were currently reading. Mine was less than impressive (Cress from The Lunar Chronicles), hers was a book called Ghost. My mind immediately jumped to the upcoming (or current, depending on who you are) Halloween season and I asked her if it was a horror story. She laughed and said no... it's a philosophical book about life and love. That made me pause and think about love and just how finite life is on this Earth.

 

Physically, my brother, Jed, is no longer here on Earth with us. He is dead. Some might even choose to say that he is "gone" (I politely disagree). But if anyone sat through elementary physics, then you would know the law of conservation of energy: energy can be neither created nor destroyed. However, energy can change forms, and energy can flow from one place to another.

 

My love for my brother was a mighty powerful thing. Even though he is no longer physically here with me, that doesn't mean my love for him disappeared. And that goes both ways: his love for me was just as powerful and that doesn't just disappear when he disappears from sight. His soul, his spirit, and his love continue on... just in a different form, flowing from one place to another.

 

Love is such an integral part of our very beings, I believe it has a hand in crafting our souls. When our hearts cease beating and we breathe our last breath, the energy within our souls is emitted into the universe, flowing around us... and that includes our love for one another.

 

I choose to believe that Jed is still around me in a form that my pathetic human eyes can't see, flowing around me, surrounding me with his love that can never and will never die.

 

And I just love ghosts, don't you? I see them as just so tragic and yet so intriguing. Some of them continue to live out parts of their lives over and over again (maybe that is Hell?), others follow their loved ones, waiting for them. They all have a story to tell... and just imagine those stories! Just think about sitting down with a ghost from 400 years ago. Not only can they tell you tales of the life they lived but then they can tell you everything they have witnessed in the time since... It's as if they are blessed with living a multitude of lives, experiencing different people, places, and phenomena (maybe that is Heaven?).

 

Anyway! This has gotten quite philosophical, hasn't it? Here is a little doodle of me as a ghost, keeping my love for my husband, my parents, my brother, my family and friends alive forever. Plus I love that font!

 

a.r.w. 

What He Found Out

His eyes fluttered open as he took in a raspy breath. It felt different, odd... as if the air he breathed could finally fill his entire body all the way down to his toes. It was powerful. Alive.

As he laid on his back, he tried to think to only a moment ago, on the other side of that last breath... but it was fuzzy. He could remember seeing his parents and his big sister standing in the hallway, crying, and the doctors gathered around him, shouting...

With a gasp, he pushed himself up, suddenly feeling panic rise up in his chest.

His chest.

Lifting his hand, he searched for a heartbeat and dropped his hand when he found nothing.

"Surprised?"

The voice cut through the boy's panicked silence, it's cool aloofness sending a chill down his spine.

Forcing himself to find any bit of courage inside of him, the boy turned to see who it was that was watching him.

Silhouetted in the deep blue glow of a doorway, a young man stood there, his arms clasped behind his back, donned in nothing but black. He was tall and lean, his jet black hair pulled away from his face to reveal a pair of ice blue eyes that continued to watch the boy, curiously.

"Who are you?"

The man's lips twitched at the boy's question.

Taking a step forward, he simply offered, "You may call me Lord Death."

"Death?" The boy's eyes grew wide at the sound of the word.

Lord Death glanced down at the boy, the corner of his mouth almost lifting up into a smile. "I'll repeat my first question--are you surprised?"

"But," the boy stumbled over his thoughts, trying desperately to understand what was happening. "But this wasn't--"

"Supposed to happen?" Death finished his thought for him. "You'd be surprised with how many people say that."

The boy wasn't listening to the dark man standing before him; he was looking around, desperately searching for something--the truth... or perhaps an escape.

"I was supposed to make it," he muttered to himself. "The doctor said I was going to be okay." His thoughts came to him faster than he could say them. "I wanted to be a dad... I wanted to grow old."

Lord Death scoffed at his words. "Growing old is vastly overrated, my boy."

After a moment of watching the young boy continue to panic, Lord Death took him by his shoulders and forced him to listen. "See here, boy. It is not the length of your life that counts, but the depth."

"What?" The boy tried desperately to let the man's words anchor him to the here and now... only, he didn't know where "here" was.

"I have watched you live and grow all these years and I can assure you that you have lived a full life."

"But I'm only nineteen!"

"And in just nineteen years, you managed to do more than most ninety year old men I welcome here."

Seeing the boy had calmed down a bit, Death released him and took a step back. "You've lived not a long life but a deep one." He paused for a moment before adding, "And that is far more meaningful."

The boy remained silent, his thoughts a mystery to the lord for only a moment.

"What about my family?" His words surprised Death. "My sister?"

Lord Death smiled at the boy's concern. "They will be just fine," he assured. "And when it is their turn to come here, we can meet them together."

"How long will that be?" 

There was something in Lord Death's smile that he didn't particularly like--didn't trust--but he forced himself to forget his doubts. At the moment, Lord Death was the only person he had in this place and the man had given him no reason to fear him or his words.

"Sadly," Death declared, "I cannot tell you that right now. But, I promise, it will be within the blink of an eye for you. For you see," he leaned in to whisper, "we are not trapped by the human's idea of time here."

Here.

From his first breath he had known that there was something special about this place... and "this place" was certainly nothing like he had ever known.

His eyes were slowly beginning to adjust to the world around him--it was no longer complete darkness. He was beginning to see the hint of shadows and the dim glow of lights in the distance.

Turning to look back to Lord Death, he asked nervously, "Where exactly is 'here'?"

The man threw his head back and laughed. "So sorry, my boy!" Putting his arm around the boy's shoulders, Lord Death smiled down at him through the darkness and confirmed the boy's thoughts and fears with a nonchalant smile. "This is the World of the Dead... Welcome to the Betwixt."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I do daily writing prompts in the fall to get me prepped for NaNoWriMo and today's was "What he found out."

 

I've found that a lot of my writing, whether it is a haiku or a short story have to do with death and dying and what comes Next. I'm currently working on a big writing project about the world of the Betwixt and what happens when a living human girl arrives in the world of the dead. The story focuses on her and her relationship with Lord Death but there is another character in this story that is very near and dear to my heart. Jed is a character in this story, our main character's little brother and Lord Death's second in command (he was given that position because of how full his life was when he died). This is a snippet that doesn't happen in the storyline but I wanted to share with you "what he found out" the moment he arrived in the Betwixt.

 

It's the quality of life, not the quantity. It's the depth, not the length.

 

a.r.w.

Feathers

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There are several things in life that still make me think of Jed (my little brother). Acorns are the first thing. And then red balloons. And also feathers.

 

I've always known that there are very special people in this world who might be more in tune with things around them--both seen and unseen. I am lucky enough to have several people such as this in my life--each of them have sought me and my family out to tell us of their experiences they have had with Jed since he journeyed from Here to There. One of them in particular gave our family a message from Jed that seemed a bit out of the ordinary. Aside from him calming our fears about his final moments Here, he also told us to look for him in feathers.

 

I honestly had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Acorns? Yes! Balloons? Sure! But feathers? I just couldn't connect the dots... but sometimes things don't need to make sense to have them touch our hearts.

 

Shortly after that initial message of "Look for me in feathers," my dad and I spotted a feather float down over Tonawanda High School's graduating class of 2015 where we were presenting a scholarship in Jed's honor. My cousin found a feather on the conveyer belt where she worked at Fed Ex. I found a feather at Prince Charming's Carousel in the Magic Kingdom just after the fireworks on my honeymoon. And my first day in my new apartment here in Siberia, there was a little feather in my kitchen, just sitting on my windowsill, welcoming me to my new home.

 

You can believe what you want, but the feathers do not lie... and each time I see one whether it's exactly where it belongs--out in the open beneath a bird's nest--or surprisingly not where it belongs--like on a conveyer belt in Fed Ex--I think of my brother fondly and I know that he is nearby, letting me know that he is okay and he wants me to be happy.

 

I choose to believe that Jed is a strong spirit, constantly reaching out from There, inspiring me, watching out for me, and making sure to never let me forget that even though I can't physically see him right now, he is still right here, waiting to see me smile when my eyes fall on a feather.

 

 

a.r.w.