we were born and raised in the summer haze

i think i thought that if i just made it through the first year after mom died, it would mean success. everyone talked about the first year.

so, it was 10 days after the year anniversary that i started setting things on fire.

i would tell you that i hadn't begun to grieve this loss. i would tell you that i didn't begin to understand what it means. to lose my mom. to lose so many things i held true, that i don't know what is and what isn't. but that somewhere in there, i stopped trusting everything. absolutely everything. not really. but close.

and, i guess that means that i have begun. i just can't touch it.

one night this week, i got a flood of emails from my mom. it must have been my dad. or suzanne, who was visiting. sending from her address. each email with a picture from her camera. for the first time since before she left, i see each of us so clearly in those pictures. mike- happy and gregarious. dad, happy just to be with us. me, boyish and shy, wanting to be recognized. i see that she was leaving. she had that ethereal look.

everyday, i think about not saying goodbye to her. everyday, i wonder where she is. does she still know us?

i think everyday of how much i want her to still be around. i think about summer's idea of afterlife. that because we raise her spirit, she is still here. but i want more.