Latching Onto Light

It's been a horrible, low couple of weeks. My base feeling is sadness and a sense of no direction except for the air my heart balloons when I'm with my daughter. A few mornings ago while we bathed together she asked me to sit down on the floor. I obliged. She stepped forward to caress my face, looked longingly at me as I have never been seen before, her tiny hand soothed across my eyes, leaned forward and her lips kissed mine, "I love you mommy". If I could have stayed in that moment and be coddled in a net of security and devotion, I would elect to have those frozen seconds for the rest of my human life. How can a tiny innocent of a being love me so deeply with no natural regard for life outside that shower stall?

It's incredible to me how much I can move daily for my daughter's sake only. I force myself to get out of bed, not because I'm lazy and tired, but because I don't want to face another day without Charley. In fact, my most peaceful time is when I close my eyes after long hours of denial, lay my head on my pillow and exhale. In these interrupted hours of REM, I allow myself to forget Charley is gone but I'm also looking forward to a possible visit with him. Dream after dream I search for him and his face. I'm at parties, in an airplane, being flooded by water, holding a fire extinguisher against flames, telling people, "it's okay, wait for Charley", walking a moist garden at night, being held by a person I don't know....and when I don't see my brother, I wake up disappointed only to fall back asleep with hope on my mind and prayer trickling from my mouth. Over and over again I dream, wake up, get frustrated, go back to sleep. When I finally wake up for the morning my first, immediate thought is, "Charley is gone". Forget trying to wake myself up with a positive message or light-hearted encouragement- I can't. I celebrate my brother on my terms and in my time. I hooray his life in ways I know he would approve of or bashfully embrace. And so, most of my movements are for Mia and my brother. I come in third.

A couple months before Charley passed, we talked about getting new tattoos. What we wanted, no idea but we agreed the tattoos had to be significant, stand for a message we ambitiously believe and will carry with us with no regret. Days after he passed I knew my tattoo was going to be tribute tattoo-inked against my brown skin and boasting vibrant colors that signify my love for Charley, our shared interest in music and the drive to follow our dreams. And so I scheduled appointments with a shop to ensure that the cat engraving a never-can-undo stencil into my skin is also a true-to-heart artist. We explored my thoughts and feelings and designed a delight that I will always love-nestled into my left wrist is color that emanates from Charley's heart and the limb I feel I've lost. It's honor and devotion.
It's classy and well-designed. It whispers subtle attention and beauty. It's me and my brother in the form of emotion and needle. This gesture is one of hundreds I will create with my Mia, and for the mornings I actually want to wake up to move with Charley's spirit and continue absorbing the light he shines into me.