Full Moon Movement

The moon's pull, strong and guiding, created the ebb and flow of the waves that pummeled our bodies again and again as we giggled and rolled. Brown water, fear of sharks, trash galore... nothing could lessen the lust those waves fostered.

And so we splashed and swam and flew atop the water of the Gulf-warm warm waters.

Houston provided friendship, an ability to touch and love one you have missed so much for too long. Yet still the moon pulls and guides. 

Nineteen hours of constant forward motion without much movement (poor body!) through Texas and New Mexico and Colorado. Flat, hot, hilly, cold, the moon helped us through it all and lit the curves of these beautiful winding mountain passes. 

We're here now, Caiti and I, forging onwards into past lives reborn... regrown... refound. She is a woman of immense strength and power, my travel companion; I feel now from where that was borne.

Tonight, we can gaze at the full moon here with our mothers-one in the same now. Colorado is the place of our mothers, and the moon shines bright over her. 

When Good Mothers Die (I think this one is optimistic)

When good mothers die:

Everything breaks. It all goes to shit, really, it does.

You wonder how you are still breathing every second past her passing... she was your life, she created you, bore you so how, HOW are you still here without her?! It is as if God, our creator, suddenly disappeared forever, we would question everything, we would ask: how are we still here?

You have a crisis when you're all alone, screaming and crying because, holy shit, presumably your life is still so long and how are you going to fill the time without her....

When good mothers die:

You begin to see all that she left you and how much she loved you.

You begin to see, also, the cracks, those empty spaces in others forged not by death but by mothers never had, mothers gone before they lived, mothers undeserving of the title.

You begin to see again and again how rare, how unique her beauty and her love. How she died but never left you.

She could never leave you. Impossible.

When good mothers die:

You see her love, you realize you know how to love. You realize all your capacities for beauty, comfort, patience, acceptance. You can spread light because she taught you how.

You see her love and know you can be strong for others, for yourself.

When good mothers die:

You mourn everything.

You grieve for people you've just met. You love so hard and fast it makes no sense and hurts so much.

You learn you have to let it all go, slowly. You can't hold onto love tangibly; letting those you met one month ago roam onwards without much of a public fuss.

When good mothers die:

You fuck up all the time.

Every decision is wrong until it is already decided and then it is alright.

You learn. You grow more than you ever thought you could. Quickly, too. At the speed of light even though time seems to have stopped.

You trust others. You find other mothers. You find other people who nurture you, and you appreciate them. You appreciate oh so much.

When good mothers die:

You find you will never be alone.

You find her. You will always have her.

Forever she is gone, forever you are together.