April 11, 2012
Let Hope Fly
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
“That perches in my soul”. I love this line. There is a Knowing that perches in all of our souls. It may be as light as a feather. And, maybe that is why we sometimes have trouble listening to this Knowing. But, it is there. Singing.
This is how I birthed and how we have raised our children.
Listening to this ‘Knowing’ in my soul, rather than what society was telling me. It is why we ended up home-birthing and home-schooling. It is what keeps me calm and gives me trust. Hope when one of the kids appeared to not meet the proper criteria on the scale of expectation created by society. It is the thing that perches in my soul. Light as a feather. I listen.
Maybe this is how I am healing from stage four breast cancer now.
Well, this along with the chemo and radiation that have my whole upper left torso completely burned and blistering. And, along with the juicing and raw foods. Those delicious colorful leafy healing foods. And, of course, along with my guides and angels.
I miss Michelle. An angel on this sweet Earth. She has already been gone for nearly two months. Our phone calls are better now. We are past the first month of those dreadful skype calls. The calls that came everyday with fears and tears. Calls where I not only listened to her but could see her misery. Her dismay in finding herself in a foreign country. Alone in a studio apartment no bigger than the bedroom she so recently left empty in my home. Alone. She cried everyday for the first two weeks. “I wish Trevor made it into the show too. He was so close. One of the top three. Why didn’t he make it too?” She would get the words out through sobs, “then, he would be here with me now.”
“I just want to come home.”
Skyping makes these far more than mere words. It’s one thing as a mother to just hear these words over the phone. Skype lets me see her. I am not sure I like such modern technology. I am miserable too.
And I can’t wipe away the tears that I see streaming her face.
The song in my soul tells me she is doing the right thing. The song without words. I just know.
“No.” I tell her. “This is a good thing. Hard. But good.” Trevor did not get the show in Japan. “And, though that seemed bad at the time, he ended up getting Cirque de la Mer again, stunt performing in the San Diego Opera-Moby Dick, and tramp wall show at the SD Zoo. These are all great for Trevor.” I remind Michelley of the Taoist story her daddy used to tell them all whenever they thought something bad just happened to us. The story of the old farmer whose only response to any news, good or bad, was the same;
“We shall see.”
We thought it was bad, sad, that Michelley made it but Trevor did not. Especially since he was the one who researched the audition and thought about doing that show for over a year. We forgot to say, “we shall see.” Trevor is in a far better place right now and could not have done this if he was in Japan. “Besides,” I tell her, “something tells me that you need this experience on your own.” I see myself in the little screen that sits over the top of her beautiful face on my laptop screen.
I try not to keep looking at myself when I talk to her over skype.
It makes me so self conscious. I check my teeth for spinach like I am looking into a mirror. She mimics me and laughs. Skyping will take some getting used to. It will need a new set of proper etiquette, yet to be written. I try to stay focused on the conversation but it’s so hard to do. It’s like talking to someone who has their back to a mirror and all I see is myself. “Besides, this experience is going to be life-changing for you. It is exactly the right thing for you at the right time. You will be fine.”
She says, “We shall see.”
I say these last four words with confidence. Yet, underneath this air of confidence the words are whispered more as a prayer of hope. Oh dear God I hope she will be fine. Let her be fine. During those tearful conversations I would find myself wondering……
How long will it take me to swim across the ocean?
I am just on the other side of the Pacific. Almost a direct line to Osaka. I look across my horizon when I stand on the pier. I like knowing she is just beyond this view. Fine. Doing fine. Momo used to tell the kids that whenever she missed them when she was back home in Florida, all she had to do was look up to the moon and the stars and know that they (the kids) were under the same big glow. “I see the moon, and the moon sees me…..”
I would say this to Michelley now, but, I know she would think I am being corny. Already, she is doing fine. She sends me a photo of herself. Performing in the rain. Smiling in the rain.
I not only miss her, I am in a little panic. Did I teach her enough? The important stuff. Like, how to cook a meal, how to wash clothes, how not to get kidnapped. I know we taught her how to do gymnastics and how to brush her teeth, I remember doing that.
We just get so freaking busy living life. And in my defense, there were five of them. The only thing I know for sure that I covered for each one of them was where babies come from. I only know this, because to this day, I still ask if I had had this talk with him or her yet. I always worried that I might have told one child twice and then left one of them out of this little fact of life.
But, I never ask them if I covered any other important ‘how to live life’ topics. Well, except, maybe to tell them that it was okay to be gay. Another repetitive lesson. I wanted them to be sure that if they happened to be gay, I would still love them to the moon and back. So, this question, I know for sure, I asked each one of them. Often. Hundreds of times over their young lifetime. Why didn’t I make sure I taught them other life skills? I wish I had done a check list for raising my kids right. Maybe I should not have just listened to that thing with feathers perching on my soul, singing without words. A song with words may have been a wiser ‘Knowing’. Michelley’s not just down the road a piece so when she makes a mistake she can run home and lick her wounds. She is 6078.49 nautical miles away.
That is one big ocean between us.
I dig deep to my ‘Knowing’ with feathers. I find Trust is also a thing. Perching right there beside Knowing and Hope. I have to just trust at this point. Trust that Greg and I have done enough in raising her. Trust that she is part of this big beautiful universe. A universe that knows exactly what is right for her. Trust that she has guiding angels. I know that she listens. So, now I just have to trust.
Michelley sends me a photo of a meal she just made for herself. She thinks it is chicken. Shopping in Japan without knowing how to read the language can be a little surprising. I see spinach and tomatoes on her plate and breathe a sigh of relief. It is not a meal made from Doritos and Top Ramen.
I just hope she knows that poultry should not be eaten raw.