We went to the park the other day.
Yael was pushing Solly on the swings.
For a few moments, there was another child on the swing next to them...a little boy.
If I squinted my eyes and tilted my head to the side...I could imagine that he was Sammy.
Then he was gone, and the swing was empty.
My days feel so full and yet...haunted by the empty swing.
Like a phantom limb...a feeling that I can't shake, a missing piece, a part of me that's just not there.
In yoga, we're told to root down into the earth while simultaneously reaching up.
The push-pull of conflicting actions, the desperately wanting to be in the past while trying so hard to live in the present...this. This is what we're doing. Rooting down into the earth, digging deep and finding the strength to kiss boo-boos and cut up chicken nuggets while, at the same time, reaching up for the glimpses and memories that threaten to carry me away on a wave of sadness...rooting down into the memories and reaching up for a future in which they are soft and kind....rooting down and planting ourselves firmly in the present, reaching up up up to a magical place where there are six of us....the push and pull of it all...
And I blink blink blink my eyes and the swing is empty.
A year ago....
|June, 2009 (pajamas)|
|July, 2010 (at OSRUI) (pajamas)|
|May, 2011, pushing his sister with style (note that SHE is the one in PJ's and he isn't....unusual!)|
|June, 2013 - in Green Lake, Wisconsin....so many thoughts on this picture. Black socks and crocs?! So Sam.|