Trees

A trip to Lake Powell when my youngest son, Baylee was still getting up to nurse in the night...I sat with him on the beach trying to feed away any crying he might do that would wake up the spring breakers we were camped by. Frustrated, sleepy, unable to get a grip on the why me?s...I had an epiphany that has carried me through 17 years of raising my last child. His dad begged me to name him Forrest. We chose Baylee collectively..(Bay being a water term his dad liked..Lee being my middle name and this was my last opportunity for that kind of nonsense)but Forrest was it for his dad. My agreeing to the name was just one of the givings in that were feeling piled on me..vacationing with babies..nursing into the night while the fisherman slept..blah blah blah. I felt sorry for myself a lot in those days. I remember looking down at a calm at last fed face of this beautiful boy..looking up at me like I was the most important person on earth and it occurred to me..I am not seeing the Forrest for the damn trees! From that moment on, I vowed to remember that raising this..my last chance at mothering..a blessing for us both. When Baylee (only his school teachers and friends call him Forrest) told me that he and are are closer than most mothers and sons he knows..I had to hide the tears and pride so he wouldn't think it was that big of a deal..learning early on that the bigger a deal I made of things my kids said..the more they would be squashed. "I suppose so", I offered. The drama that led to me leaving his dad (and him by default as I took his older brother who I saw suffered a poor relationship with his dad) is something I will save for another day. I will say that when Baylee joined us in my little Freedom House in Murray..I was overjoyed. It began a journey of motherhood moments I will forever remember. Even the times when Baylee became the parent..or tried..I will hold these memories in my heart forever. The short version here in pictures..I could write a book on what I have learned being the mother of a Forrest.

dorkiest boy in the cabin looking living space of our Murray house..the house across the street from kindred spirit, brother David.

ya..he got the biggest room..don't ask me why.

I hope he always keeps the mural his friends helped him paint in the driveway..a symbol of freedom and solidarity in my opinion..if I pass on the freedom to make your room how you want, I have done my job (well..the easy part anyway)

Baylee will hate me adding this picture of another art project..but damnit! it was FUN!!!!

speaking of fun..movie dates..can't have enough of them!

and when you miss the Murray house..remember being WEED NINJAS with Davey..ugh!!! every damn summer!!!!

Even after moving into a tiny place for me..and Baylee moving in with his dad..he still managed to visit..and I'm pretty sure it wasn't for the popscicles. I love you, Baylee.

Rest in peace

It's been three weeks and still sorting through the aftermath of death. I divorced my two youngest son's dad some five years ago. Stuffed all the leftover feelings in a box and put it to rest. Other than occassional irritation over simple things..I was in a pretty good place to live and let live with this man who had caused me considerable grief.
It's not all about me..but this is my blog and all...
I had written this mantra on my wrist the morning Mark died. Saw Let Love Rule as a tattoo and kind of sketched it out on myself to remember before I got the call from my youngest,  Baylee,  to come to the hospital.
I didn't know how well those words would serve me that day or in the coming weeks.
It's difficult to sort through years of grief from a living man and come up with a stance to pay respects to his grieving kids and family after he is gone.
But not impossible.
This I know.
There is more to say but I wanted to begin this for now.

kids and art

Not a lot of things better than making art with kids

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