Shakespeare’s measured love Kubrik’s fractured time Photography’s micro-moments Nature’s meditative breath Animal’s magical simplicity Book’s escape plan Quiet’s unspoken pain Legacy’s abandonment core Love’s imperceptible gaze
This is me and my dad in the late 1970s. The books above are from a collection I won as a child with my dad at the Fair Oaks Shakespeare Festival. Although I’m always pushing for more, I’m grateful for my hippy animal-loving father. Happy Father’s Day.
with picking out bright yellow sunflowers from Trader Joe’s and hoping my eyes aren’t still puffy from crying myself to sleep last night
with wearing my expensive Dior lip gloss 026, intense mauve shimmer, because it makes me feel fancy
with drinking water from the turtle cup with the metal straw, the one my best friend made for me, because it makes everything taste better
with seeing the text I sent my dad about my feelings was read on Sunday but he’s still not responded, and deciding not to send another one
with wearing the colorful flower dress my four-year-old nephew said was his favorite because it makes me look like a garden
with playing the absolute stupidest game ever on the Nintendo Wii with the teens, drinking Grimace’s birthday shakes, and laughing so hard I remember kegel exercises are important
with waking up early to water outside and saying hi to three bumblebees and one hummingbird who lingered close enough I could see how incredible their wings are
with moving my watermelon plant to another part of the yard because it’s getting choked out by the enormous pumpkin leaves and wanting it to have a chance to survive
with watching all 10 episodes of Drag Me to Dinner with my daughter and wanting to hug every LGBTQ person on the planet and tell them they are loved
with having teary conversations with my teens about respect and communication knowing they will always have me and each other in their corner no matter what
with replacing the bowl of old candy on the counter with a bowl of fresh apples because I can’t make others love me the way I want to be loved, but I can eat healthier
with turning to words again and not worrying if they are good enough because that’s not the point and I can show up exactly how I am
the moon, the stars and me watched you walk proudly across the stage. we smiled knowing the truth. love doesn’t recognize such things as endings or beginnings. only connection and connection. love isn’t contingent or feeble. it doesn’t come with strings or weights. free and full— vast as the infinite universe. i’m forever here for you.
time isn’t linear at all. broken hearts know this truth. concentric circles might be closer. i drive into the rice fields to see myself riding bareback, kicking up dirt into the water. cranes take flight scared by hoofbeats and hollering— ‘your eyes can be so cruel, just as i can be so cruel.’ vultures watch me traveltime, hissing ‘you don’t belong here anymore.’ i know. circling, i turn back.
you get stoned say you’re proud say you’re sorry say I’m beautiful
I believe you motherhood cuts deep your scars shine
like mine
My Daughter
you’ve inherited broken glass jagged-edged shattered dreams that are not yours
I tried smoothing them with cold ocean waves deep muddy lake dives but they still cut
you don’t believe me because fresh wounds sting lines etched into softness but I see you
I’m proud of you I’m sorry you are beautiful
Mother’s Day isn’t an easy day for many, but I hope today you find solace in knowing motherhood binds us more than separates us. We all come from birth. We all are broken. We are all doing our best. May you find a piece of love to hold today and every day.
Bridgette Tales 