Tuesday, April 26, 2011

5 years ago

Five years ago today, I delivered a beautiful baby girl. She was the smallest person I had ever seen. She healed my heart and changed me forever. Happy birthday, Cecilia. You're perfect.

she sees she says she wants.
she wants I see she gets.
I say she takes to heart.
she takes she takes apart.
Every time
she blinks she strikes somebody blind.
she thinks blows her tiny mind.
That's my daughter in the water.
Everything she owns I bought her.
Everything she owns.
That's my daughter in the water.
Everything she knows I taught her.
Everything she knows.
That's my daughter in the water
I lost every time I fought her.
I lost every time.
Who'd have ever thought?
Who'd have ever thought?

Monday, April 25, 2011

Hoppy Eastah! (also, the post in which I fail at youth religious education)

The scene: A crowded restaurant, jam packed with senior citizens during the early lunch rush. I am sitting with The Hubbin'; Cecilia, 4; and Lucas, 2.

Cecilia: It's almost Easter!
Saki: I know! Are you excited?
Cecilia: Mommy, why do we have Easter?
Saki: Because of Jesus. Do you know who Jesus is?
Cecilia: *deer in headlights*
Saki: Jesus was a very, very, very kind man, who lived a long time ago --
Cecilia: Oh, that's nice.
Saki: ...But he died.
Cecilia: That's terrible! How did he die?
The Hubbin', as he runs away: I'm just going to get up and go somewhere that isn't here
Saki: *nervously looking around* Well, there were people who didn't like Jesus, so they put him on a big cross, and he died there.
Cecilia: That was fresh of them.
Saki: But it's okay, because three days later, he came back to life!
Cecilia: What? How?
Saki: Because Jesus is God's son. And God is magical, and because people believed in him, he helped bring Jesus back to life.
Cecilia: So God is magical?
Saki: Uh....yes. Sort of. Yes.
Cecilia: OH! I get it -- God is magic like Harry Potter!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


In western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night,
And swaying branches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.

Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell.