georgia o'keefe in miniature
(poem by Dad)

right now our daughter has a photo
in the back of her sky blue crayon

she's trying to shake loose.
between the borders of a bone-paper world

there are mornings that fill up
with just one color and spill over

the page. little curls like insect wings
scatter over the edges, across

the table or floor. then page on page
afternoons become a frenzy of

prismatic gnats dragging
neon spaghetti. she cooks up

cloud after cloud, gigantic flowers,
and at least three long straight horizons

for her past, present, and future --
and sometimes one more

for a time all her own.

new ground: Sept 25, 2009

when i reflect on this day, it's easy to believe that you- brave girl- landed in this country and were the only one who changed. a new citizenship, a new language, new sounds, foods, & experiences. you were introduced to your first dog and one beloved cat, who you now invite to the beach and China and instruct me to "hug", even though he left this earth a week after you became a Chinese-American. you met strangers who would be your extended family- aunts, uncles, cousins. you made friends and were escorted to one doctor after another. poked, prodded, xrayed and MRI-ed. you relished in new freedoms- a jungle gym, a swing set, your first swim.

but the truth is we all landed here foreigners, together. a new family of three (or 5, counting those lovable animals). we each had a new language to learn. a new way of living. our relationship was neonatal, barely in its infancy. though we'd seen glimpses of who we would become, and glimpses of who you are (no words can capture all of you E), we were timid, and careful, moving in time that was somehow stilled, navigating moments instead of days.

you were the bravest of us, e. you who were thrust into our arms only to be taken to the skies for 15 hours 2 weeks after that meeting- finding yourself an immigrant amidst strange natives. i cannot imagine your fear. i only know i am deeply and forever humbled by your grace and valor.

none of us, not your dad, not me, not you, have been the same since coming to this new home. though the landscape was familiar (for your dad and I), the scenery had changed, taken on new color and depth. the routes in and the routes to and from each other and ourselves had been re-mapped.

what a blessing to be in this territory. what a blessing to be building these roads and passages along side each other, to each other, and in our own directions.

what an honor to share this new ground as a family.

he took the time...

after a day that started with a rude awakening from a nightmare and ended with a migraine- (and was punctuated by yes, cramping- might as well tell my secrets- and mild nausea along with one pesky cough passed to mom by the recovering cold sufferer)-

i think i'll follow The Boob's lead and take some time to smell the sunflowers.

tomorrow.

tonight? sleep first.

happy moon festival everyone...
:O)

i have a date with my TV. it starts in 3 hours, 45 minutes.

Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.

~Buddha~

One Year: Family Day 2010

Here is to the best year of our lives thus far. Not because it has been simple, or easy, but because you, E, bring such joy and richness to our lives. We are blessed by the intangible gifts that are contained in one small, determined, silly, affectionate, loving- 33 pound body. We don't for one minute take your joy for granted, which in order for our relationship to exist, came at an immeasurable cost. But we give thanks daily for what we have become together, not in one day, but over time as we've grown in love. We give thanks for you.

Here's to our first year: to remembering, celebrating, and embracing who we are, together, which miraculously is greater than the sum of all our parts:
family.

dude where's my guitar?

this was such fantastic weekend meeting Freedom Master's friends/family! i feel like i have adopted 2 brothers and a sister! now if only You Bube hadn't blurried up my photos. but you'll get to see how happy we all were, regardless. i wish i could do this weekend again for at least, as E would say, "one more hour".

love in rewind: april 2009