Dylan

It ain't me...

Broken

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My Ghost

My thoughts are filled with him. I see someone smile and think of his eyes twinkling. I hear a horn honking and think of him driving. My phone rings and I hope he is calling.

I live with music and every song I hear connects me to him. I can't get away from him. There is nowhere to go to escape his sweet deep voice and rumbling chuckle.

Even my dreams are filled with him... so real that when I wake I'm reaching for him.

He haunts me with his soothing words and chains me to him by the teasing names he calls me.

I miss him but he is not gone from my world.

His Song Part 2

He hides behind words
and write in riddles
hoping to be discovered
by the one he loves

pushing her away
he tries harder
everyday
to win her

the tears he cannot shed
live forever in his head
and his blood keeps on pulsing
through this unforgiving world

smiling, she passes by
he struggles to let go and fly
to join on her journey
the dreams she longs to live

reality pushes them apart
and he struggles for her heart
to capture his fleeing soul

joined as one
they fall into the sun
and their love consumes them

It's Time

I'm going to be cutting my hair within the next month. It might be this Friday, right before Shavuos, or right after Shavuos. I've got at least a foot of hair that will go to Locks Of Love. It's probably closer to 14 inches.

My hair hangs down my back past the bottom of my shoulder blades. I usually cover it with a baseball cap. That way I can just wash it in the morning and not have to spend up to an hour blow drying it and fixing it. I stick it in a ponytail that's doubled up to keep it out of my face and off my neck, and I'm out the door.

I've grown a little attached to my hair, but summer's coming and I know how comfortable short hair can be. Plus swimming is so much easier without having to worry about hair in your face... not to mention going to the mikvah. OMG!!! I won't have to spend 10 minutes combing out my hair. HOORAY!!!

A Passing Afternoon

Passing Afternoon - Iron & Wine

There are times that walk from you
Like some passing afternoon
Summer warmed the open window of her honeymoon
And she chose a yard to burn
But the ground remembers her
Wooden spoons, her children stir her Bougainvillea blooms

There are things that drift away
Like our endless numbered days
Autumn blew the quilt right off the perfect bed she made
And she's chosen to believe
In the hymns her mother sings
Sunday pulls it's children from their piles of fallen leaves

There are sailing ships that pass
All our bodies in the grass
Springtime calls her children until she lets them go at last
And she's chosen where to be
Though she's lost her wedding ring
Somewhere near her misplaced jar of Bougainvillea seeds

There are things we can't recall
Blind as night that finds us all
Winter tucks her children in, her fragile china dolls
But my hands remember hers
Rolling around the shaded ferns
Naked arms, her secrets still like songs I'd never learned

There are names across the sea
Only now I do believe
Sometimes, with the window closed, she'll sit and think of me
But she'll mend his tattered clothes
And they'll kiss as if they know
A baby sleeps in all our bones, so scared to be alone

Summer Nights

It's warm out tonight. The sky isn't that dark yet. It's all blue, a light sky color, to royal, to a deep midnight blue. It's part of my favorite time of night. I love the color blue. The stars are out and I recognize Orion in the familiar place it takes in the summer sky at this time of year.

I used to have a hammock, and in the warm weather instead of sitting on the glider in DB's room and reading his bedtime stories, he would lie cuddled next to me on it under the stars with the three books chosen for that night. When it was really warm out we would go out with his hair still wet from his bath and it would keep us both cool. Once or twice he fell asleep while we did this, and I just stayed there for an hour or two looking up at the stars feeling content that my darlin' boy was peaceful and next to me.

I hadn't thought about this for awhile. DB is bigger now. He doesn't fit that well on my lap when I'm on the glider so we read in his bed. The stories are also different; The Count of Monte Cristo, The Last Of The Mohicans, but Dr. Seuss hasn't left the group quite yet, although Green Eggs And Ham, and Hop On Pop have.

I know that if DB weren't dyslexic I wouldn't be reading him any bedtime stories at all. That's about the only good thing that I can see in him being dyslexic. There are times now when he wants to "read" something on his own, and the occasions that I sing to him our repertoire of lullabies are also decreasing.

He's growing up... beautifully. I remember the day I walked into his room in the morning and he was standing up for the first time holding onto the crib rails with a big grin of accomplishment on his face. It took me all of a minute to grab my camera and record it for posterity, but I didn't really need to. Closing my eyes, I can still see that sweet face smiling at me.

His manners are also improving. I wrote improving, after all he is a boy and a child, but yesterday I didn't need to remind him to hold open the door for Bubbi and to say thank you. We stopped in a gallery and DB stood talking to the owner about Chagall, texture and color and how he paints. He is so grown up for a little munch, but the next moment he was discussing who is a stronger alien in the cartoon Ben 10 (tv show he watches with his dad), and acting out what the character does.

He's a special boy, and I'm so lucky to be his mom. I hope all you other mom's (including mr. moms) enjoy your children and have a Happy Mother's Day.

Love Songs

Gavin DeGraw

The end to Cinema Paradiso (partial nudity, very briefly)

Josh Groban singing the song to Cinema Paradiso

Almost Lover to scenes from Becoming Jane.

Becoming Jane

Happy endings can be written
but not lived with the passion
and yearning for their life together

Alone in the future with words for company
each story ending with love
while her own must continue without
not willing to hurt him through his family

Doing what is right and necessary
Instead of what is wanted
For a love never to be lived
but imagined and dreamt
Created with characters

each one, him
each hero, him

because her thoughts are full of him
and the only way to rid herself of them
is to give them to others
as she has given him to others

Everyday, every night
She remembers his behaviors and tones
With a smile on her face.
Hoping that he is happy
That what she has lost
He has gained without her

She was never erased
Always a reminder
In a name of a beloved child

It does not still the beating of her heart
or dry the tears on her soul

He has not forgotten


If only he had,
then perhaps one day she will.

Left Out

Somehow this one got left out of yesterday's post with the other songs.

I really like this video...


but Bonnie Raitt's voice really does the song justice.

Persuasion

Jane Austen's Persuasion and last week was Jane Eyre. What bittersweet joy! Love and happy endings. No more writing tonight. Just watching and tissues.