sunday.
i took mozea out for hot chocolate this morning.
this was our church service--loving each other.
we walked to gladstone coffee and sang about the wheels on the bus, and mozie picked her nose and waved at dogs and passersby.
when we got there she stood in front of a table of interneting people and stared at them, picking her nose once again, staring, staring and picking.
she was not phased by their apparent discomfort and she perservered with her simple tactic of observation and extraction :)
they finally smiled, and their tattoos of skeletons and nails and razor blades melted and ran right off their shoulders.
everybody was just people for a few minutes.
thank you, mozea.
on our walk home we stomped through bright red and orange maple leaves and i told her about the Fall and how it is mama's favorite season. there's so much life in this season--portland never looks more vibrant and alive to me as it is does when the leaves are dying.
death bringing life,
made me think of giving birth to my girls.
no drugs and so much pain, i was sure i was going to die both times. as i dug my fingernails into her soft forearm, my midwife kept telling me about how i was not only giving birth to mozea but to all of the potential children inside of her. women are born with all of their eggs, and with each insane contraction, i was birthing my family tree. generations and generations.
just as i thought death was certainly going to follow the next contraction, mozea came.
and then ruah came.
two years later and just as hard.
so church this morning for mozea and me was had with the trees in our nook of south east portland, the leaves dying this time of year, thinking about death and life in birth as i walked in the crumbly red leaf paper with mozie, thinking about death and life in the cross and the beauty of seeing that expressed in women giving birth, in me giving birth,
and in the trees showing their true color and then letting it go.
