The Circle Game

Yesterday was hard. And I thank you for your love. I lost a friend. A friend I've never met. Much like all of you have become my friends. This friend I met in a similar way. And yesterday; she died. Her name was Linda and she lived in Orange, Texas. We met through her son, also my friend; Chris. Chris and I met 8 years ago in a grief chatroom. He had lost his dad to cancer. I had lost my mom. He said to me: "Don't worry Baby, you can share my mama. She's got a heart as big as Texas." He wasn't kidding. Before I knew it, I was calling Linda "Mom." She was a teacher. She taught 6th grade and she ADORED her kids. Yesterday, she had a massive heart attack at school. Chris called me. Instead of that happy-go-lucky "Hey BABY!" in that beautiful Texan drawl, I heard him sobbing: "Pua, she's gone. Mom's gone."

With everything going on in my world, this was just more than I could handle. I kinda caved. I did my best to comfort Chris, and he, in turn, comforted me. Last year, I was supposed to go to Texas and meet Linda. Chris had already been out to California twice to visit us. Once I got there, we planned on driving the 4 hours from Orange to New Orleans and have some fun. But Linda cancelled because she had an opportunity to teach. She never missed an opportunity to teach. We promised we would reschedule. You always think you have all the time in the world.

Cut to today. Nineteen years ago today, at 4:49 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, after 19 1/2 hours of labor, Charlie and I added to our family:

Averie Joy Maikalima Omakua
7 lbs. 9 oz. 19.5 in

She was beautiful. Perfect in every way. She turned our twoness into threeness. She made us a family. Her name means "From the hand of the Father", and she was and is our joy. She didn't cry, she just opened her eyes and looked around; surveying her world. It was an indication of things to come. The way that she would function; eyes open, always watching and writing down everything she saw. She has the soul of a poet and an easy laugh. She was my first. My entrance into parenthood. The beginning of what is my continual well of worry, and my constant source of awe. She makes me feel that everything is worth it. I wrote little things she said down and I called them "Averie-isms" and sometimes, I look through that little rememberance and I smile. For all the bad, for all the fuckups, for all the hurt, for every stupid decision I've made in my life, I look at her and know without a doubt that she is part of my reward for hanging in. I did something good. And every night, when she says "I love you Mommy." My heart swells.

Life is a circle. And you don't always have all the time in the world. Rest well, dear Linda Mom. I'll miss you and I love you. Happy Birthday Sweet Averie. Thank you for teaching me how to be a mommy.


THE CIRCLE GAME

Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, when you're older, must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels thru the town
And they tell him,
Take your time, it won't be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

JONI MITCHELL 1966-69 Siquomb Publishing Co. BMI