Tea With Me
28th August, 2020 Friday
Santa Fe, New Mexico
Well, its been awhile, eh?
So we closed on both houses in a span of 3 hours 11 weeks ago. Next morning brought the moving crew to Hood River and the fencers to the Lady Fe. Hood River was packed and loaded three days later and Husband and I and Duckles Brave load in the van our vagabond supplies and drive away from three years reaching for dreams that cannot be.
Hood River is harsh. The Wind is as much a character in the elemental cast as sunshine, rain, clouds, snow. As we sat in the front yard underneath Mother Oak that Mother’s Day with my lovely Eldest enjoying the balmy breeze which kissed our skin, we laughed about the lack of flaying in the day. A rare thing.
On our way out that day, we paused for love at Eldest and SIL’s new perch, a bit East down the Gorge. A farmlet, she had found her shangrila of this moment in her journey. Her birds had hutch, her Dukers had the run and SIL had mancave space. She has her home and loved we came to kiss it on our way to new adventure.
I don’t remember crying as we wound on down that canyon that Mighty River still tries to sculpt despite our damming. Its current track reveals the rape of progress on the land and peoples White Man’s Progress inflicted. The thinly veiled agenda, but of course, was to diminish native culture.
Who the hell can say America’s march across the land was not fueled by racial combat?
The RNC is over, Thank The Friggin Gods. I think its ratings historic registration of how miniscule the validity in the message, that of hate and “other” fear that they construct on a filagree of lies and spin. Any fact they can turn inside out they relish. I am feeling in the ether their hold is melting with every act of Bullshit they vomit.
Joe Biden as a Progressive Ideologue!!??? Ha. He stands on middle ground with compassion for the Social Contract a true President must carry.
Santa Fe, Yes, We arrived to chaos. The surgeries to stop the Lady Fe from failing had begun and all her wounds were showing. But wow, Her Bones. Walls 14 inches solid thick and soaring wood planked buttressed ceilings, open space…
Her Grace was covered in the deconstruction of her damage as I met her. And the Zoo of humans I had remotely tasked with her surgery swarmed me as I entered after three days of hard drive to land at Home. Home seemed just a Dream that afternoon.
Those first three weeks of healing her open wounds are faded into a swath of memory akin to birth. We are here and loving how she holds us all.
Her embrace is still, quiet. These walls do not wobble with wind or tread.
I find my history arrives in bits. They appear then go. Some I have not visited since the breathed in now instead of memory. Mistakes and shameful moments where my stupid helped herself.
But as these bits come and reflect so briefly, I am not snarled in the judgements I have been programmed to apply. Instead I feel a fondness for the me that knew no better at the time or did and chose the Shit to heave her power at what ever. In short, I am not running from my past.
I dreamt a lot last night and one was about an interaction with my four years past Mum. I told her what a Shit she had been to me at the top of my Dream Lungs in all the lurid detail I have carried. I would never have inflicted this on her in life as she would never have been able to survive those truths. Her fear of owning all her flaws is the package she passed on with. And I know she knows. I loved her, warts and all, and most of all I protected her as all her beloveds did. She was not strong, you see, for all her bluff and bluster. Her fragile compelled us all. And in her core she loved. And I loved her too. Still do.
I wish I could have yelled at you and had you hug me after with the “Sorry” I know would have come to me had you been able to.
All my love to you, my Mama. Next time, we will try again.
Ta.
Tea With Me 