Yes, his middle name is Moonbeam.

Song in my head

Five Years (Lyrics by Bowie)

Pushing through the market square, so many mothers sighing
News had just come over, we had five years left to cry in
News guy wept and told us, earth was really dying
Cried so much his face was wet, then I knew he was not lying
I heard telephones, opera house, favorite melodies
I saw boys, toys electric irons and T.V.'s
My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things to store everything in there
And all the fat-skinny people, and all the tall-short people
And all the nobody people, and all the somebody people
I never thought I'd need so many people

A girl my age went off her head, hit some tiny children
If the black hadn't a-pulled her off, I think she would have killed them
A soldier with a broken arm, fixed his stare to the wheels of a Cadillac
A cop knelt and kissed the feet of a priest, and a queer
Threw up at the sight of that
I think I saw you in an ice-cream parlor, drinking milk shakes cold and long
Smiling and waving and looking so fine, don't think
You knew you were in this song
And it was cold and it rained so I felt like an actor
And I thought of Ma and I wanted to get back there
Your face, your race, the way that you talk
I kiss you, you're beautiful, I want you to walk

We've got five years, stuck on my eyes
We've got five years, what a surprise
We've got five years, my brain hurts a lot
We've got five years, that's all we've got

Someday

Talking about loss

By the light of the silvery moon

The moon is big and clear and stark white tonight. There is a layer of snow, glittery ice over everything and it's bitter cold. It's a beautiful night. My little Moonbeam, I feel you close. We honored you today in a way that gave me back some pride as a mother to you. I miss you deeply. Four years ago feels like a lifetime ago and yesterday and today it felt like it was the present again in my aching heart. I am sorry. I love you.

Brothers

The other day Monty told Nonna "I used to have a big brother, now he lives in a tree."

1, 2, 3...

Three years and each one brings a gift of newly discovered grief
I hate today not just because it is the day my first son died
But because I never know how to honor his memory
it feels like failing him all over again
it's the end of a long day
(Why can’t I ever sit down and do this first thing?)
failure
And this blog feels more like a albatross than a phoenix
I started it to memorialize him
It’s pathetic
an annual entry
I’ve failed him again
I am no longer sure why I would want to write my feelings publicly?
am I trying to prove that I remember him
I am sure there is little doubt by anyone that I could ever forget
And I am certainly not proving that I love him here
failure
That’s what this anniversary has revealed to me
failure
After two years of love and care for Monty I have discovered
How much I failed Milos as a mother
I wasn’t there when he needed me
I had no idea how to take care of him
I left him alone in the hospital to die (again)
if that had been Monty I would have never left!
so maybe I was not a mother when Milos died
I didn’t feel transformed into one when he was born limp
failure
Ok, so this isn’t exactly a new revelation
But instead of just feeling that I killed him or abandoned him as a person
Which may sound odd but it was more of how I saw myself
Compared to now
Now, I feel like a failed him as a mother
And no tin that way that every mom feels like a failure
More like in a Sophie’s Choice kind of failure as a mother

So in an attempt to begin a ritual or to do something meaningful for him
to right a wrong (ha!)
We ended up going to a Buddhist Temple in Chinatown at the end of the day
After a long family nap
After I cried in David’s arms for a good long while
in the rain (the weather is always sh*t on his birthday)
there was a giant gold Buddha and gifts of oranges and incense
and lanterns and Christmas lights and people praying and monks chanting
Monty was mesmerized
He talked about the gong the monks made with the bowl all evening
I lit an incense stick
and we gave money
next year I think we'll bring oranges
It felt good to be there
an attempt at something fitting
He died on Chinese new year
both him and his brother are oxen
This week ushers in the year of the water dragon
God/Buddha help us!