Choose Your Garden

This has been on my mind. And it's time to share.

A few weeks ago, while out for a Sunday breakfast, Scott, Avery and I stumbled upon the Troy Chavez Memorial Peace Garden. Such a treasure, hidden to us and now found. Created in 1994, this garden, kept up by the community, commemorates the many young folks who lost their lives during Denver's "Summer of Violence" in 1993. Inside you will find many healing herbs, like comfrey and sage, as well as vegetables, flowers, and mini-gardens.





I fell in love with the Butterfly Garden.



Something that took my breath away was the large painting stretching over the entrance to the garden. I love the description on the photo. To me, it really captures the struggle that many parents face when their children turn into teenagers. It made me think a lot about my teenage years, and the chaos I put my parents through.



I am so amazed at the way people come together during a difficult time. A close friend of mine just found out she has brain cancer. This girl is amazing. She believes this is happening for a higher purpose. Instead of getting down in the dumps about the whole thing, which I'm sure at times is impossible, she is choosing to see a sliver lining. Kind of like the people who came together to build the community garden. They are choosing to act. I think that's beautiful. And so, friends, today, please make a choice. Bring it. Choose to bring whatever you got, and own it.

P.S. I love you, dear m. You are an elfin queen, and I can't wait until we can run through forests and climb trees again.

Blindsided

About one and a half years ago, someone very close to me died. The cause of his death was, and will always be, slightly unknown. The cause, I've come to realize, is not what matters anyway. What does matter is that he was young (22 years old), and his death was unexpected. I remember when I found out. For some reason, I was already sad that day. I couldn't figure out why. I just felt blue. Perhaps hormones? I was four months pregnant, after all. Or was it the Bon Iver album, For Emma, that I had on repeat? I still can't listen to a song from that album without feeling the flood of emotions I felt when I found out he died. I heard one of the songs in a coffee shop a few weeks back and I had to excuse myself and run to the bathroom to cry.

I miss my friend very much. Rumor has it that he died from a heroin overdose. Or, that he took a little bit of heroin during a time when his immune system was very weak. We found out that he was HIV positive. I had no idea. I mean NO idea. At all. I am trying to imagine a living a life with so much secrecy. So badly I wish I had one more chance to connect with him. To ask him how he is, and to invite him over for dinner, just to talk. I know exactly what I would say; I've had that speech memorized for a year now. Sometimes I play it over and over in my mind, hoping it will help me sleep.

Blindsided. I was blindsided.

He appeared in a dream soon after he died. I asked him where he had been, and he said he was okay now, and was ready to go home. Then we hugged. And I woke up shivering and grateful.

Last night, I had a dream that I knew where the heroin was that may have been the cause of his death. Like Russian spies, Scott and I intercepted it from the dealer, and we disposed of it. Then, we saw him. And he was bright and shining and healthy and happy.

This time I woke up dazed. In a slump. And I haven't been able to shake it all day.

I miss you. And I am sorry about all of the missed opportunities to be there when you really needed someone. To be your Russian spy.

Love.

Avery is one!

Holy cow! Meow! Avery turned ONE on June 25th! And I am just now, like JUST now, writing about this. So it goes, the way I am a mom is that mostly I am waaaaaaay late! But the thought is always there. I promise. It's there, lurking in my brain, hitting my brain matter and shouting, "GET IT TOGETHER, WOMAN! IT'S NOT THAT HARD TO BE AN ORGANIZED MAMA!!!" I tell it to shut the hell up because, obvy, it has no idea what it is to be a mama. And a new one at that.

Anyway, moving on to something that really matters, which is that Avery, my sweet babe, turned Oh-to-the-En-to-the-Ee! And he makes a damn good one year old, if I do say so myself.



Ha! Lucky boy is he: he celebrated his birthday twice. Once on the actual day, and again on July 11.

June 25th
So the day he turned one (June 25th) we got to spend time with Aunt Pamela, and cousins Aidan and Emma. We went on a walk, ate at a yummy restaurant called Mona's, and then ATE A CUPCAKE, for the very first time! It was carrot and yumma! And made with love by aforementioned people. Then, that evening, we got to see Ian Cooke perform at the Denver Art Museum, and if you know me, you know how much I loove him! He's yumma, too! Plus, Scott bought me some earrings that Avery picked out. Oh-so-sweet. Oh yeah, and we rode our bikes with Avery for the first time! What a day of de-virginizing! I will post pictures of all of this debauchery in the near future. (Or maybe I will lay around at night just thinking about it.)

July 11th (Words inspired by Yo! Yes! by Chris Raaschka

Wha?



Sure...



No! Wait, wha?



Yes?



Yes!



Yes! Yes!

Happy birthday, little one. It is an absolute pleasure to watch you grow up. May you always get messy while eating your cake.

Night Owl?

For some reason, I have trouble sleeping. I don't know if it's because:

a. Avery is still sleeping with us.
b. I have a lot on my mind (should I go back to school? Work? When will I write thank you cards from Avery's first birthday OVER a month ago? Is my brother enjoying Alaska? Why am I always so tired???? And on and on.)
c. It's hot. As hell. Up in here.
d. Other______________________________
e. All of the above.

Whatever the hell it is, it's keeping me up. So up that maybe I should just get up. Avery and Scott sleep soundly. I don't even really have the excuse that Avery's nursing at night, because he's really not doing that so much anymore. Also, somehow I lucked out with my husband, because as soon as he starts snoring, he wakes himself up. Then he changes positions and falls back asleep, no more snoring. So I can't blame it on that. Also, our dog Myra no longer sleeps with us (last month I freaked out and decided that the reason I couldn't sleep was because of Myra. Because she takes up so much space. And, she's a heater. A little oven underneath the covers, heatin' up our feet and making us sweat. BUT! She now sleeps beside the bed, and I still can't sleep. (Plus, she was getting nippy with Avery, and we thought it would be a good idea to change the order of things, at least what she thinks is the order of things...)

So for now, I will just write. Perhaps I have some things brewing inside of me that could get worked out if I just write.

And also for now, here is a picture of my sleeping boys.



Sleep, you keepers of my heart.

Give and Take

Just now I walked out of the room because I wasn't getting anywhere. Then it hit me, while I got out my toothbrush, that I could change the way of the conversation, the fight, our marriage. All I would have to do is say, "Let's start over." And I did it.

Just now I had to wipe away a tear while I tore myself from his embrace. Because it worked.

And now they sleep. The two of them beside each other, stretching out on the bed, making a space for me to curl into quite nicely.

So good night, and sweet dreams.