twenty-five years later

February 19, 2013

Slowly now, slowly so my limbs move away from sheets soaked. My eyes not yet open but I can see the light that seeps from under the door, radiant on my forehead down to my shins. Slowly with my legs stretched, I'm only a surface piled on top of a much further depth.

As a lone voice echoes across high ceilings hoping they hit the inside of your ear, hoping you can only see what I've been keeping. Backs leaned against walls owned by others and the hope disappears into the small cracks we can't see. Please.

And I see you, long awaited joy forced into a small cramped room with your brother, sister, mother, father. Your hands grabbing onto a single finger, shivers sent down my spine as my mother tells of how she once held her father in the same way.

Long awaited fragments pieced together over a satellite line, the sound of tears spilling, nose sniffling. The sound of decisions made, no more time to wait. Yet, I couldn't help but to take it as it was, or else we continue blindly until we are completely lost and alone. The only sounds you didn't hear was this silence that has swept across my days.

Slowly, slowly now, a heart mends on top of a new shape. One that is less, less of what this month has been, and more of what is ahead. Those little hands growing everyday, a smile from her eyes on slower days, a tune played from his sweet hands, more stories from her small garden. A depth that will continue as long as this chest is rising and falling. Today is another day to celebrate life, what could be more wonderful than that.

Dog Days

February- you are something else.

Elijah Kai

Today is my nephews birthday, Elijah is now seven years old! I can't believe that he is already seven. Every time I see him, he is bigger and bigger. I took him on a hike with Xavier and Toph a couple of weeks ago and I trip out that he is this little kid now, not a baby, but this kid that can jump, run, climb, and a ton of other kid stuff.

And he sure can talk a lot now, the constant "why" question.
"uncle tony, why didn't you take me on hikes when I was 5 years old?"
-"because you were still too small Elijah"
"why?"
-"because you would've gotten tired really quickly"
"why?"

-"because your body isn't really developed to the point where you have much stamina"

"why?"
-"because your lungs are smaller so they can't take in that much oxygen"
"why?"
-"because you see Elijah, humans need to breathe, and they need their lungs to breathe, and.. oh hey  look at that squirrel!"

I told him since he is seven now, we will go on more hikes. Elijah only has two uncles, and I hope I'm his favorite. Happy birthday Eli, love you my dude.

Roots

February 1 2013

Lately I've been trying to imitate something, someone, some idea that might help me feel and be more peaceful, stable. With this constant movement happening all around, it seems so hard to grab onto something. Getting caught up in a wild whirlwind of words, emotions that stay in small sound proof rooms, and feelings poured in between the small cracks of the tile floor becomes a weight that pulls and pulls until my chest is level with the ground and I can't feel a pulse.

Walking away, I could hear the quietest creaks inching their way closer to the other side of my feet. I look up and the wind is pushing the top of my head closer to the branches of a towering sycamore tree. Concrete poured over its roots, these same roots lifting these concrete blocks until they are knee high.

I thought if I'd imitate anything, it would be this sycamore tree. Something that has been so resilient, something that lives through generation and generation of concrete being poured over its roots but somehow it finds a way to resurface. Somehow, after all this time it's branches and leaves still sway with this light wind. And it lets me place my hand on it's trunk and all I can feel is a completely solid core. Something that can't be moved, a middle that stays and grows.

So I'll learn from this tree. I understand that I'm only so much, but I'm also as much as I try to be. I'll continue through this constant movement, but with a much stronger and grounded depth this time.