Fall On Your Knees

my Dragon loves Christmas. (i'm going on the assumption that your purest joys do not change after you die.) we kept saying, "when we have our own home, we will decorate and we will have the most memorable Christmas. lots of pictures, good food, the kids, a few presents, because having the home and our kids would be the greatest gift.

we didn't make it. maybe one day i will and i will bring all his joy and love of Christmas with me. in the meantime, i have started listening to Christmas music. it makes me melancholy, dreamy. i find myself suddenly jerking myself out of a reverie with the needle poised in my hand.

i'm taking a brief break from sewing to put this out there. it was my Dragon's and my first Christmas when we realized we both loved the same Christmas song. "O Holy Night." so for him, on this first Christmas without my Dragon, here is our favorite line.

"Fall on your knees. Oh, hear the angel voices. Oh night divine. Oh night when Christ was born."

this was my Dragon's favorite piece that i made. it made him think of his mother who had died before he and i met. he always said that she and i would have been great friends.

my Dragon loves Christmas. i just wanted you all to know that.

Heaven ~ where and what

see that tree that stands alone in the fog? that's me. i took this photo with my Dragon standing behind me. i thought the tree looked heartbreakingly poetic. my Dragon thought she looked stalwart. little did i know then that that tree would become symbolic of me. my heart is broken. i can sometimes throw a rhyme together. but i am not very stalwart. i am, however, becoming stoic. people never cease to dismay me.

but i am not stoic when i think about Heaven. it was the second thing that hit me when they brought me in to sit with him after he died. first, i thought, "he's so quiet. he's gone. he really left." then i thought about where he was at that moment. was he still lingering? was he seeing me see him? did he know what i did with my wedding ring?

my rings were made by our favorite artist, Jes MaHarry. my wedding ring is hammered copper with a gold heart and silver leaves. it speaks to all the years we were planning together, all the passing seasons, of our hair turning silver with our age, and of eternity. when my Dragon slipped the ring on my finger, the heart was turned outward to him. sitting there holding his hand after he died, i talked to him. just him and me. i took my ring off and turned the heart so that it faced inward, to me. i told him i would always be his wife. my heart is closed off from ever wanting anyone else. no one can walk where the Dragon walked. no one can come close to what he means to me. it wouldn't be fair to anyone to let them try.

i've been told i'm speaking out of turn, that it's too early. i will be 52 years old next month. i've been through all kinds of hell that i would never touch on here. i know my own mind and heart. i will be the Dragon's wife here in this life until i stop breathing.

but i am lost without him here. and where is he? i've always had faith. but then it was easy. "sure there's a Heaven. it's a beautiful place where there's no more pain, or fear, or death. we'll all be together in Heaven."

well, a book i just read said, "there is no marriage is Heaven. you will know your spouse but in the way God intended. but you will not be married to him. you will each have your service to God in Heaven."

i sobbed. not married to my Dragon? what kind of Heaven is that? i have and am combing dogma, scripture, doctrines, everything i can find to get some kind of sane hold on Heaven. but the Bible speaks in symbolism and analogies. it's cryptic. we're not meant to know. and my fear is so tangible. i've tried to be decent all my life. i've prayed. i've sacrificed. i've never sought vengeance. i've ducked my head and turned away from vexing people, from people who would and did hurt me. i pray for forgiveness of my sins, any sins my children may commit, and the sins of my Dragon. i pray for him very often.

i'm alone. always alone. i can do that. the dogs think i'm talking to them.

so why would i be punished? why would i not be allowed to be his wife? why will we be separated? we always worked better as a team.

it is my hope, what i cling to, that God gives us each the Heaven we pray for. i want the sun to clear the fog from around me.

i want it to light the path that i feel most comfortable on and am most familiar with, the driveway to our house by the ocean. this one or something like it:
i hope i get to see a quasi-familiar place that brings such gladness to my soul that i shine brighter than a womanNshadows could ever imagine of shining on earth.
i want to experience all seasons God made. i want to be with my Dragon. maybe God would allow me to paint some sunrises, or sew quilts for the babies that go to Heaven, like my first baby. i wonder if i'll get to ask questions; like ask my mother why she hit me so much, why she made me so afraid of her.

but mostly i just want to be with my Dragon, and to have my first baby back. Quinn. it's been so long since i've told anyone his name. my gift to myself. twenty-six years ago, he was taken from me. i'd like to hold him again. AND i'd like to know that he knows who i am and that he will be allowed to still be my son.

i wish i knew something that someone knows that gives me some kind of faith that families can be families in Heaven. no marriage? no families? how could that book say that? why did i read it?

i should just turn around and go shoot myself in the foot. i really didn't need to read that right now. i was searching for something to hang on to. now i'm struggling to just hang on.
i just have to calm down and think of my island and my Dragon waiting for me. and Quinn. oh, Lord. i have to go lay down now.

far to go

i am a Thursday's Child. that line in the rhyme has been my truth. if i were to give a brief history, which i am not, you would see that my life has been lived on the edge of a constant storm. unlike Marlene Dietrich, i do not know anyone that i may call at 4 am. my children are grown so i do not have to get up for them. they are my only family.

i have yet to type anything that has any real strength. i've read uplifting things from others. but my hope, being fragile, is something i keep high on the shelf and protect. it is something i polish only with my gaze. but it is there and it is mine. i will try to write with more hope from now on though.

i changed my igoogle homepage....

piggy piggy spins and floats across the top of the page. that's why the photo of him is fuzzy. he's so busy spinning and floating. i love him. he makes me smile.

a falling apart kind of day

i don't have any poems nor any little stories. this is just straight forward writing.

i've had a bad day. i didn't want to get out of bed. once i did, i tried, i really tried, but i kept crying. i'm still lethargic late this afternoon. i feel so very sad. this is one of the worse days i've had in, oh, God, i cracked my first smile. see writing does help. it puts things in perspective. this is the worst day i've had in about two weeks.

i had momentum. i really did. my cough is dying out and i've had a few days of great progress. but today, i have only worked for a few hours. i am the worst boss i've ever worked for. i work myself for anywhere from 12 to 15 hours a day. i'll work until very late. but today, i'm slogging through so much grief and sorrow that it's like quicksand.

i see homes through the trees behind my apartment all lit up with Christmas lights. there is a commercial on television that i can't get away from. a man and a woman are standing in front of their big picture window at their beautiful log cabin lake house. there is a terrible storm outside and when a sudden flash of lightning drives the wife into her husband's arms, he says to her, "hey, it's all right. i'll always be here."

and i always say to the television, "don't make promises you have no control over being able to keep."

my Dragon promised he'd never leave me. and i worry, yeah, i've said it, one of my fears is that he died in pain and so terribly afraid, for me and for himself. it's eating me up inside today. i'm trying to fight against my own mind. it's that locked trunk i keep in the closet that rattling. i know what's locked in there. all my fears and worries that will ruin me if i let them get out.

so i'm trying to focus on my island. it has a dusting of snow on it, just like it did this time last year. i'm going through all my photos that are still on the computer and trying to get them burned off so that they are safe. i can't lose any of them. they are my past. they are of the places where i was when i was happy. they are of all the places i was while he was alive.

i wish there was someone i could call to come over and sit with me so i could talk about him. there are so many little stories i could tell. i feel like i could call "jude," "supa," Suddenwidow," and Boo and any one of them would rush right over with a sack of hamburgers and thick milkshakes, but even if they started now, the burgers would be cold and the shakes mushy. in other words, the people i've "met" who would come do not live within even 250 miles of me.

so it is to here that i come on this darkening late afternoon. i am alone as i always am and, most likely for the unforeseeable future, always will be. i'm weary and i wish i could crawl into his lap and lay my head down and sleep. i want to feel his legs behind my head. i want to feel his hands on me, caressing me, relaxing me. i want to close my eyes and listen to the low murmur of this voice.

i want him.

so i'll close my eyes and click my heels and say, "there's no place like home. take me to my island. take me home."

*sigh* i'm still here.

Dear Santa,

Dear Santa,

i'm sorry that i haven't written in a while. it's been since my children were little and writing to you. remember? you'd get three letters from us until they grew up and realized that all they had to do was talk to you, and you'd listen.

well, it's Christmas time. and i've decided that i need to write to you. what i have to say is so important that maybe if you read it, rather than just listen to my mournful voice drone on, you'd realize just how important what i have to say is. i know you already know what i'm going to write but, well, it will make me feel better to send this off to you.

i'd like a glimpse into Heaven. i'd like to know that he's okay.

i got out his old Santa hat that he'd wear all the time, even to the grocery store, and i put it on the military bear that my daughter and i got for me. i didn't buy him clothes because that's expensive but out of deference to my sense of decorum, i did get him the boxers so he's not totally naked; although you know my Dragon. he would not mind being naked. the man had no shame. Lord, he could make me laugh and blush all at the same time.

see? isn't he cute?

but you have to know it's not the same. i know now that asking for him to come back is worse than useless. but i am asking for a miracle. just a little one.

please give me a glimpse into Heaven. just a peek. i want to see what he's up to. does he have a little house by the ocean like we'd always wanted? does he have a tree with lights? he loves Christmas and all the decorations. we walked Rockport all the time looking at the Christmas decorations and talked about how we'd decorate when we got our own home.
he loves old places like me. it was going to be perfect. we love old wood floors that creak and big wood stoves with stew simmering. we held hands when we walked and i had to shake him loose to take pictures. when i was done he'd hold my hand again. he'd say that was how he made sure i wasn't getting too cold. i had that hypothermia event thingy that once and scared the daylights out of him. he panicked when i lay down in the snow to sleep off the cold. it really frightened him. but he saved me. remember? he was so wonderful and heroic and calm. and then he held me and shook off his own fright. "don't leave me," he said.

but then he left me.

oh, i know he didn't want to. the darkness in my mind sometimes gets away from me and i wonder if he was scared, or in pain. did he cry inside as he was dying because he heard me screaming his name? did he feel awful? please tell me it was fast. please tell me he didn't know until he got to Heaven.

please tell me he never knew how awful it was for me. please let me see him. just for a minute. i won't try to talk to him. i just want to be a voyeur into his life now. i want to see that he's at peace. i want to see his smile and hear his voice. i want to see him walk, move. he is so graceful for a man with so many muscles. can i just watch him for a little while?

we love walking in snow. okay. i can't get away with present tense on that one. we loved walking in snow. he'd carry a flask of hot chocolate to keep me warm. everyone thought we were two crazy boozers walking in the storms, but it was just so picturesque. we had to go out. but he kept me safe. he kept me warm. he showed his love for me in so many ways. like with hot chocolate in a flask in his pocket.

why can't i just see if he's okay? does he need anything? if so, maybe i could do a Viking thing and burn what he wanted me to send up to him. crazy sounding, i know. but the closer it gets to Christmas the worse i'm getting.
last Christmas was snowy and wonderful. my son came and we had a quiet, peaceful time together. my daughter couldn't come but we talked on the phone for like an hour. so in a way she was there. but don't try to pass off on me that my Dragon is really here with me now in spirit. i need to see him. i'm having a hard time.

no, i'm suffering.

yesterday was 10 months. exactly. to the day. 10 months without my Dragon. that's a long time. and i've been a good girl. i really have. i haven't spent money on anything but absolute necessities. well, that's a lie. i bought a Christmas ornament. a pirate ship. it's pretty. i hung it from the mantle under my Dragon's urn. i also bought a couple of books, a pair of shoes, and a t-shirt from the Marine catalog, a sniper one, like he is.

i'm assuming he hasn't lost his gift just because he died. he would laugh ruefully and say, "well, they need me again. i guess none of these young guys can hit the water if they fell out of the boat." or he'd say, "it's the math. they can't figure the wind, distance, density of air, crap like that. this country will go down because no one can do math." he'd have me in stitches. and then i'd cry after he left. because i would worry so much. where is he? if something happens, will they bring him back to me? or will they leave him out there? that life is over now. he is retired. he is mine. he was mine.

anyway, the shirt i got says, "USMC Sniper You can run but you'll only die tired." he would have laughed his a** off. seriously. it's a Marine thing and i was with him long enough to get used to the black humor.

such a job they ask of some men. such things he saw that he could never speak of. i'd see that far, distant look come into his eyes. he was remembering, or simply feeling. i would move to stand directly in front of him and caress his face. i'd ask him if he wanted to talk. sometimes he did and, Santa, i never flinched. i know he was waiting for me to but i never did. i just felt overwhelmed with what he'd had to do. but i'd look into his eyes and then i'd kiss him. i always kissed him so he'd see that i was still so honored to be with him. to be his wife.

i was good to him and he was so good to me. please let me be his wife. please? can i just see him again? just a quick look? a glimpse into Heaven. how about on Christmas Eve? you and me. i'll sit very quietly and wait all alone for you to open my eyes inside me. please let me see my sweet, sweet Dragon. i just want to know that he's happy.

i just want to know that he feels good; that he's safe, and is waiting for me.

just a peek. for one minute. i just want to gaze at him one more time so i can go on.

it's the only thing i want for Christmas.

please.

the next one...

is drawn and started.