truths
/This post mentions my rainbow children.
that first,
I was a different kind of mother
and nothing about that is self-evident
that my first is not my oldest,
my oldest not my first—
they would not be here
if not for his death,
and if he were here,
they would not
be
yet here are two daughters,
their embodiment—
substantial,
growing,
bubbling with sound and life—
makes insubstantial my once feather-light son
that for a time I believed
and now
I do not disbelieve
but gods remain elusive,
a whimsy of youth,
an academic pursuit
that death is not the end of existence
but a sharp crack,
a shaking of the earth and heavens,
a reverse of the magnetic poles
so all stands on its head,
heavy and disoriented
that my baby died on christmas day
yet I can allow the magic of christmases
to light my daughters’ eyes
I can experience joy
that we do not call it celebration
but we celebrate,
accumulating the trappings of ritual,
ornaments,
butterflies,
the six letters of his name
printed over and over
and though he will never have a happy birthday,
he was still
born
Dear Glow community,
This is my last post as a regular contributor at Glow. When I first came to warm my hands at this fire, snakes writhing on my head, constrained under my hat, my head bent with shame, I believed I was ugly with grief. But here at Glow I have uncovered and claimed such power. I have been able to honor my son's place in my life. Joseph died four years ago yesterday and was born four years ago tomorrow. Time passes slowly, and in a blink, and grief shifts, lightens. It is time for me to go.
Thank you for listening, for sitting with me, for sharing your truths. Thank you for being on this journey with me.
~~Burning Eye