Of Butterflies and Anniversaries
Email sent 1.22.24 | 1 year, 1 month, 12 days
Hello Gorgeous Creatures,
On the topic of emulating our dear Miles, I’d like to share a story which may need to take a moment to find its resting place. Before Miles’ accident he asked for this T-shirt for Christmas. We were headed to a decidedly “giftless - experience only” season with only a few choice material presents allowed to sneak in. Wizard of Barge is a fellow creative creature of the arts who Miles adored and he picked this out for himself. It was sent to his grandmother’s home but he did not have a chance to receive it. David now wears Miles’ unopened gift proudly. If the spirit moves you, as it did Miles, here’s the link to purchase. Our minds don't need to wander too far to find the significance in Miles’ choice.
A few weeks back our dear friend and comrade of the heart posted his year-end "music in review" on instagram. We’ve been grateful to know there is a feast for the eyes from the day we honored Miles, waiting for our consumption when we are ready to take it in, but we just hadn’t wandered there yet. It took my breath away to actually see (and hear) a visual on Jesse’s socials from Miles' Celebration of Love and Light, so I watched and I watched and I watched. Hungry I guess I am, and I watched some more.
It’s been a year since we all came together. January 22, 2022, the day the sun finally cracked the clouds and beat its way to soaking wet hills. The sky, fields, barns and hillside unaware of what history was about to unfold. January 22, 2023, our boy's favorite number in life, age when he passed, and birth date, 22 also coincided with the Chinese Lunar New Year and Tibetan day of significance, which was also apparently the only sunny day for weeks.
A year ago today, we collected and wondered if it is possible to survive? How the fuck are we going to find any grace in this loss so cruel? Can they do it? Can we do it? Would the photos and videos of Miles' life and the hugging so fierce, mend our demolished beings? Would the swollen rush of water from the usually quiet barn creek be powerful enough to wash at least some of this pain clean? The way the horses’ curiosity, and hawks appeared. Led by drums, the human river of blue streaming down the hillside after listening to Marty O’Reilly sing to our bones. Sounds of the wind in the trees attempting to soften our greatest fears. The birds, the clouds, your hands and how we held each other. The smell of the hay as we sat, to take in the dances of youth learning too much too soon, this kind of pain. Movement steadily punctuated with the gravel under foot and audible tears. Paper cranes, chattering in the breeze in the doorway of the barn. Music to soothe as we all took a breath after speeches I hope to one day recall. The laughter we all cherished around the fire we never wanted to go out. We took pictures together and laughed and fell and tried. The day we all came together, one year ago. Such a fitting day for our king.
Last night, I went to an in person grief group with dear Trinity. We drove to a home full of perfect strangers. Fellow comrades who carry a weight behind their eyes too familiar. It is here that we know what courses through our collective veins, turning strangers to family, the blood of a loss unthinkable. It’s yet to be determined if this group setting is for us and whether a return is in the cards, but the significance of being together has a way of slowly taking hold. As we sat in a circle after snacks and small talk, we each had our moment to share our story while passing a picture of our child. Holding lifeless glass and paper representation while we talk about our magnificent magnetic children in spirit.
In this room, full of forgiving listeners, I don’t remember much of what I said when it was my turn to speak, but I recall thinking that I didn't want Miles‘s life to be marked by the day that we lost him, so I wasn't going to start with that. December 10 can kiss my ass and if you don't mind my presumption, I’d like to offer up all of your asses too. When I realized last night was the eve of his Celebration of Light and Love, I felt a rush of love from Miles and all of you. Knowing that is an anniversary worth acknowledging.
One day (soon) I hope to dive into all of the photos, videos and stories from last year, until then if the spirit moves you, because you have captured a bit of magic from that day, feel free to post and tag on socials or send via email. I can't speak for Izzy and David but I would welcome the pictures and video, as long as you understand it may take me another full year to open them. It's just good to know they are accessible.
So today and every day quite frankly, let’s put another log on the bonfire of our hearts. Truly celebrate Miles in light and love by loving all those around you.
I can't think of anything better for us to do with our time and willing to argue the point with you if you’d like.
With so much love,
Laura, David and Izzy *
*who have no idea what I am writing but haven’t asked me to not sign their name…yet
