tide pools

I spent Mother's Day morning, exploring iridescent tide pools with two of my beloved babes. We peeled off the wool socks that have been glued to our feet for nine months and sunk our eager, reaching, stretched-out toes into dense, silky pockets of cool, wet sand. We saw swirls of green, waves of blue, every possible shade of brown and gray, and flashes of bright white shells. Light refracted and shimmered all around us. Seaweed, kelp, and anemones transported us to a realm in which we can only imagine living. Meanwhile, barnacle-clad rocks, crabs, and broken shells reminded us of exactly how fragile our bare toes are on this wild seaside terrain. We explored; we marveled; we were fully present in the way that only nature can command of us.

Two of my babies' bodies were with me on this magical Mother's Day morning, and three were not. All five of their glorious souls were there, and I felt them as keenly as I felt the sand and the light. 

Naomi, my sugar, sugar bear.
Jethro, my sweet one, my lion cub.
My Sweetgum, the one who cracked my heart wide open.
My Bumblebee, the one who quietly slipped away.
My waiting one, who steadies my quivering heart in the Eternal Unknown.

I miss you. I long for you to all be here with me in the tide pools - as touchable as the rocks beneath our feet, as bright as the light shimmering in each pool, as soft as the sand that hugs our toes, as deliciously HERE as your siblings, Naomi Bear and Jethro Lavi. All together. Alas, your bodies are not. But our souls are eternally bound. Here or there, I love you. Always.