cathy's song.

we're coming up on a year. i felt it in the moon tonight. a year since my cathy-mom pulled her li'l red coupe into my drive. here to welcome my li'l red charlie fox. while here... she planned to walk across the bridge that connects this town to the next. her camera in hand. she was going to catch a beauty shot of that harvest moon. and she did. 
i'm not sure what she thought about as she walked. i'm not sure what mr. moon told her that night. what i do know is that he bathed her in a light. the same light that would guide my boy to me only a few nights later. the same brave light that she would sleep under during african nights in weeks to follow. the same light that would carry her briana away only a few months after that. and the same light that would wrap her up every night since.
am missing my mother.
while visiting larson house this summer, i found myself in her office, among her things one afternoon while she was out. it is one of my most favorite places on the entire planet. charlie rolled around on her bright red rug while i was soaking her in. overwhelmed at how thoughtfully found and carefully placed every little thing was. i saw her. i saw pieces of everyone she loves among her things. i grabbed my camera and i couldn't stop.
i wondered if you could say the same about me. would you find meaning and love among my things? if you visited my space would you find warmth and comfort in the evidence left behind by me?
there is something so sacred about being in someone else's space when they aren't there. i felt lucky in my connection to her. that this beautiful heart of a woman was my mother.

when briana died i wondered about her things. her purse. her keys. her pillow. her tea mugs. they were just things. things she couldn't take with her. things she'd left behind. but i couldn't move passed them. those were the thoughts that would wake up with me in the middle of the night. those first nights. 
those same thoughts consumed me while i snapped away with my camera in my mom's office that afternoon. i wanted to catch things exactly as my mother had left them. so i could go back and see them the way that she sees them.
i snapped this photo a few days later while coming down from upstairs. music playing. lamp light on. majestic-dog tucked under foot. 

am wishing she was tucked in her room over here tonight. 
just like last year. 
am wishing to wake up to her tomorrow morn.

in my ears: kathy's song. simon + garfunkel. covered by eva cassidy.