In Notes to Heaven

Daniel,

           This Autumn it will have been twelve years since you departed from Earth.   You might think that the memories and the specifics of that day have muddied over time, but they haven't. I can recall them in the sharp visceral detail in which they occurred.  Although that moment is preserved in time, the bathroom in which you collapsed and died has changed.  The shower curtain is different. It shows ancient ships. I think you would like it. The room has been redecorated somewhat and I plan to paint the room this year.  This leaves me with thoughts of other things I should do.

            You are no longer 12 1/2 as you were at your departure. Twelve years later if you were on Earth you would be 24 years old.  As you know, a couple of times I have paid for an age progression of your photos, and haven't been awfully satisfied as they just don't look like you.  Recently, one of my friends who has a son two years younger than you would be, had a college graduation. His smile and the way he carried himself reminded me so much of you. He looked like you.  I decided that I don't need to get any more photographs age progressed because I would recognize you no matter what age you were.  Most of the time I am joyous about the achievements of your friends and of the young adult children of my own friends, but once in a while, it smarts.

             As you know, your room has been redecorated but we have pretty much kept most of your things, as much as remembrances for family and siblings as much as possible. By watching your DVDs in your room, we recall the moments in which we watched them with you, and somehow we are just that much closer.  I have been thinking lately that a good deal of fairly new and expensive clothing is sitting in your closet. I kept some of it to remember you, and sometimes to open the closet and sniff some of those clothes. As I look through some of the cotton summer shirts I am reminded of times we spent together and places we went and so I had no desire to give them away. I still have a pair of your fairly new Merrell shoes which somehow fit me as well. I have worn them on and off around the house for years, as somehow I have felt closer to you. Either that or I have felt your laughing at me all the way from Heaven.   But it's time. This has been a very difficult year for many families, and some of your things are needed by people who are still tied to Earth and have earthly needs.  And so, I must begin to pass things of yours to people who need or would care for them.  Your nephew already has his eyes on some of your things. Your niece is a little small but I am thinking that it won't be long before she wants some of the things you had. Don't worry. I will keep some remembrances, and I will let you guide me, if you wish.

         I am still doing everything I promised you, the day you were called. I am still doing my best. It is hard sometimes and sometimes I am sad, but the price we pay for loving this much is that when one of us departs, it hurts.  I love you, and I am so proud to be your mom, wherever you are,  be it on Earth or in Heaven.

Our Family's Story of Halloween

                  Daniel, I remember telling you that when I was a young child, my absolute favorite holiday was Halloween.  Christmas and Easter were the purview and territory of the adults, and you had to dress as they wished you to.  Halloween was another matter. It was the child run and mediated holiday, and we adored it. We often had our costumes planned months in advance, and we would buy elements of them from garage sales or church sales. Some of them were incredibly creative.  We would choose our costumes and then my mother would sew an accessory or two for us on the sewing machine.
                   When we were very young, we walked, before dusk, to all of our neighbors, and since we lived in the country, that would only be about nine neighbors if you walked several miles. Because the neighbors knew that we would be getting to a maximum of nine, they would give fairly generous offerings. It was also the only time we would see some of these neighbors all year.

                   As we grew and became twelve or thirteen, we went farther afield. We walked and hit the local neighbors before dusk and then when dusk came, my friend's mother would take us to the subdivisions which were about fifteen miles away. She gave us shopping bags and the name of the game was to move as fast as possible. Of course, the people who were seeing fifty children a night adjusted their offerings downward, but that wasn't the point. It was a candy treasure hunt......a one day special.  The funny thing is that we didn't really eat all of that candy.  Our parents would check it, we ate some, and we would give some away to our friends at school. Some of it would still be sitting in the bag at Christmas.  The last year I trick or treated, a pizza place in the valley gave a slice of pizza to each child on Halloween.

                    By the time I had my own children, the carefree days of letting your children walk on country roads at dusk were over.  We feared poisonings, abductions, and accidents on those same country roads, because by then, all of those things had happened.  When your brother and sister were small, I would take them to selected neighbors who knew us, and since your sister was a Type I diabetic, they had special sugar free treats especially for her.  When we moved to the suburbs, and had the big white house, your Dad took the two older kids, your brother, and you to neighbors, while I gave out candy to more than a hundred kids, most years.  One Halloween evening, your Dad had to go out and restock our supply two more times!

                  By the time you were of prime trick or treating age, America had fallen out of love with the holiday. By then, we lived here on the farm, and the closed gates at dusk ensured that no one would be coming here.  Instead of trick or treating, churches and local groups arranged Harvest Festivals, with a bonfire, a pot luck dinner, candy, costumes and all your friends.  On that Saturday, you and your friends would play games until late at night.

                    I hope you had as much fun on those days as we did. 
                

In the New Year

     

Bitterly cold, snowy, and a bit empty.

 


   The New Year began with bitter cold, profuse rain, and thick ice everywhere.   This, of course, complicated the daily care and feeding of the horses, alpacas, dogs, chickens, ducks, and cats.  The mop to the horse stalls in the barn froze solid.   The gallon container of pine liquid which has never frozen in years past, froze solid and ruptured its plastic container.   I wore vinyl gloves to protect my hands underneath leather ones to protect my hands from chapping while taking care of waters and animals.  It was so cold that my eyes became windburned and bloodshot, something which has never happened, even when we were in Siberia.  Thus far, the New Year has been cold and dark.

          One of the things that is surprising to me in life, is that when our children grow up, we might not change as much as we think. I remember, as if it were last year, my eldest children going to school for the first time.  I remember what I served them for breakfast the first day of school. I remember what they wore. It seems to me that they have grown so quickly, and that in many ways, that I have not changed nearly as much. I suppose that is a good thing.   This week as I walked out land with one of my sons, I kept up with him on the hilly terrain.  I am not a middle-aged woman. I am simply a woman with adult children.  Strangely, when my daughter bought her house on acreage a bit more than a year ago, I was as excited as she.  Rather than signing a lease and getting stuck in a garden apartment where she likely would not save, and might spend more than she should on furnishings, she moved out of our farm into her first home, one year out of college.  This was tough and took considerable work and skill, and a lot of faith.  She bought a home which although fairly new required some fairly large renovations. I am very proud of her that it worked out so well. There were no twinges of the empty nest syndrome when she departed.  There was simply joy that she had found a home she loved that wasn't too far from us, should she ever wish to visit.

          This week blew in with both the cold, and one of our sons looking at a few acres in another county that he plans to buy and then build a home. The lot is very nice and it's a good buy and he should buy it.  I was unprepared for the feelings it stirred in me, and I felt a bit guilty for this.  This will be the second child launched from the farm, and he deserves this opportunity just as much as our daughter did.  However, I think I recognized that our daughter's departure was on schedule, and I expected it to be several years before any of our sons departed as well.  I suppose in the smallest coldest recesses of my soul, Daniel's unscheduled departure triggered the feeling that perhaps I would be able to have our other children with us a bit longer.  I love them all so much and I have always enjoyed watching them make their way in the world.  I know that one by one, they will each leave the farm, and this is very much what we have raised them to do. They need not only to be as competent as adults as we were, but even more so, as I believe the world to be a more complex and a more difficult place in which to make ones way.

          And so, we inch closer and closer to the day in which all of them, one by one, and possibly fairly quickly will launch and fly from the farm that was our nest.   My children during the day will then just be  equines, canines, camelids, and others.   Would you believe that this week I have been offered a zebra, two monkeys, and a baby elephant ?   Don't worry.   As much as Daniel would have enjoyed these, my animal plate is full just now.  Keeping up with some of the animals who are aging can be occasionally demanding, but I am happy to do it.    I just wish that Daniel remained here with us, in order to help me with it, before making his own way in the world,  as his siblings are doing.

This is Julia Bentley of "Canadian, Please" fame

 I still find great pleasure in watching those, the same age as my kids, make their way in the world.



"Dreamer"