There is a Japanese proverb…Kishi Kaisei.
It means- waking from death and returning to life. I learned it in my time in Japan after the Tsunami. I think its apt for my struggle. I died a death in the UK and have struggled to return to full battery. Being in the presence of a new upcoming ending fills me with an almost heroin like addiction, to feel, taste, see, hear.. experience. I find myself unfurling my petals anxious to feel alive. My emotions hover at the surface waiting. I want to be a hive of activity all the time. I refuse to pick a strength or a direction, instead I dart from here to there to away and back.
I battled my man then wore him down with baby soft kisses and breasts & bits pressed into his big strong body. I promised to obey if he promised to give me a chance…. A chance to fly many kites. To wear many hats. To be make our lives even busier. If I am honest, I am hiding in chaos. But it makes me burn bright. It makes me smile and be able to withstand the dozens of moments a day when something so heart breathtakingly poignant robs me of the ability to breathe.
I learned how to ask for help from him in a new way and he made me want to yield to him in a way I always fought. When he ripped off my towel right after my bath tonight and had me so possessively.. with a fierce hunger that excited me.. all of the nicks n burns on my self worth sort of retreated. As he laughed with deep satisfaction and tossed me around the bed.. stalking me with his lips… Goldie Hawn from work, seemed inconsequential. I am his Sugar Boots. The Maverick to his Goose.
At a auction again today,we laughed with the intimacy of two people who have known each other near 20 years. Yet when he whispered filthy sexual teases in my ear between bidding lots, we were brand new lovers. Butterflies hummed in my stomach. I had goosebumps and blushed cheeks. He held me against his chest at times, one hand absently tugging my curls. I felt so delicate against him. So adored. This gets lost sometimes in the everyday, no matter how often I feel it at night in his bed. There is something to be said for moments in the light. As if they are rubber-stamped AUTHENTIC….
Kiks was taken out tonight to a fancy restaurant with a beautiful view of Portland. Her end of days lover wore a suit and she wore a blue dress that made my eyes yearn. Sully has left me here in his bed, with promises of more heat and tousled sheets. More swears and pleases. Kisses and bites. Smacks and pulled hair… before he holds me against him, as if someone would steal me, until we slumber.
On Friday, this weeks company leaves and over the weekend the next round arrives. Making sure that she never feels alone. That nothing is left unsaid. Leaving us with cherished memories and her piece of mind. Right now… The men that LOVE our exquisite friend are on the deck staining the hope chests that I stripped. Next week it will be time to start filling them. Once for each child. For the day that comes when they are ready to wake from the memory of the deaths of their parents and return to living… All that they left behind will be waiting.
I used to say I just wanted peace. A house with windows that opened and animals. A man to love me and be my friend. A garden to grow, a path to walk. Enough money to eat and drink. Friends to fill my table. But most of all the enduring presence of my beloved son. The pain of my experiences has altered me dramatically in the past few weeks. I keenly know my path. I have honed in on what I want. What I need to accomplish. So that in the end, whenever that end may be.. The only regret I have is the ride is over.
all photos my own