You are an amazing human. Your beautiful, strength never ceases to floor me.So sad, so sad, so sad. It is summer and hot. Green, the world is green. Boys with surfboards fling themselves into blue water and come up paddling strong. Water sparkles and the sun starts to slant away from us. I am out here in the wind and sun, spinning, spinning, alive. But , like a cloud suddenly covering the sun I am seeing people in dark rooms, afraid to be there, afraid to leave. This day means nothing to them, nor does the season, the thinning light, the life humming like bees in every tree I pass. I don't know why they came to me right now. Maybe so I would think of you, a boy with a foot in both those worlds. So, OK. I'll go there. Me outside walking towards you in your apartment. Climbing the stairs. So many beautiful days collapsing into that little cupboard of darkness. Trying to coax you outside. Seeing that you had covered the windows. One world right outside the other.
Thank you for your sweet message. I didn't know you had lived here. I imagine that if you did cross paths with Caleb in 1997, (he would have been six), you most certainly would have smiled. When Caleb was six he began to inexplicably dress like a little Mormon missionary. I bought all my kids clothes second hand and let them pick them out whenever possible. So you would have seen this hippie looking mom with this kid that had on a little white button down collar shirt tucked into his pants (where did he even get the idea for that look in this town? ) with his hair neatly parted on one side and slicked back with water so that no hair was ever out of place. He had some white tennies that he also took great care to keep clean. I was pretty fascinated by this look but by the time he was 8 it was a thing of the past. Had you seen him at 11 (2002) you would have seen the classic little surfer 'grom' with his long blonde hair flying as he few around town on his skateboard or headed out into the waves on his first surfboard. Thanks for bringing those memories to the surface.Caleb passed before my time here on Bluelight but reading through his shrine today was enough to make me cry. I like to think that during those five wonderful years I spent in Santa Cruz ('97 - '02) perhaps we crossed paths. It's a nice reminder to go ahead and smile more at the strangers I meet. Thank you for sharing your heart with us all Herby in this touching tribute to life.