A Letter to My Hummingbird

I often wonder what my mother's life would've been if she could've turned it all around. Every time I do become curious and think of the life she may have had, I do her a disservice. The life she lived was the right one. No parallel existences, butterfly effect or quantum leaping. I will honor the life she lived because I inherited that life, it is a part of my tapestry...and I thank her for giving it to me. This was very emotional to write as I actually DID have this vision I describe below, it was quite a feeling. I had a few breakdowns before I had it finished but I had to get it out.

I hope you enjoy this short glimpse into her life, there is much more to come.

<3 coco

A Letter to My Hummingbird

You were a vision. When you entered a room people couldn't help but notice how you swept through, a decadent blur of blonde hair, blue jeans, and Scandinavian limbs. You were a hummingbird, flitting to one place and the next, rarely resting, as your work was never done. There was always more nectar to collect and you couldn't get enough. If one was lucky enough to get a close look at you they would see bright blue eyes, cheekbones like rose colored apples and a stark white, brilliant smile. You had a way about you that demanded attention, magnetizing. And holy shit, were you funny. Your sense of humor and comedic timing was above average but a trait even more significant was your ability to comfort others and wrap them in your warmth. Your benevolence was unfounded and limitless.

The other night I had a vision. It wasn't a dream because I was wide awake. I was watching some pointless drivel on the mounted flat screen that held less than my full attention. Suddenly a gossamer veil covered my open eyed gaze and then, there you were. You were standing just inside of two glass doors, outfitted in your trademark Levi's, white T, black blazer and million dollar smile. That brilliant smile I hadn't seen in years and never thought I would see again. The glass doors seemed to respond to you, opening only for you just as the Red Sea did for Moses. You were radiant. Your arms were wide open and you ran to me...I felt your arms around me...you wrapped me in your warmth and I was home again. I let out a sigh of relief. I was safe there, always. Looking over your shoulder to those glass doors I noticed large block letters that spelled one word: RECOVERY. I knew at that moment that you had finally done it, you were finally free.

As the veil slid back from my eyes, tears running down my freckled cheeks, it changed from a soft, gossamer caress to become a black, wool shroud and I remembered you were gone. You left me almost four years ago. I was crying and this time they were tears for you. I had cried enough for myself and because of you, so these tears were your tears. I snapped back into the here and now, the pointless drivel still broadcasting and holding absolutely none of my attention. I was overcome by a sadness I hadn't experienced. I felt your shame, sadness, regret, guilt and self-loathing. All 58 years of hurt coursed through my body, veins boiling and then collapsing, just like yours. This time, these tears, were because YOU never felt that warmth which you so readily gave others, your generosity of compassion and empathy was baseless and unsubstantiated. Your childhood was cold and frozen. It was an icicle dangling from the rain gutter, melting and freezing, freezing and melting over and over with the constant change in temperature. As the temperature fluctuated up and down, it became a weapon, a heat seeking missile that could launch at any moment, and you, it's target.

The other night I had a vision. It wasn't a dream because I was wide awake;
                               
You were free.