she was weak

cd playing reminders of someone who was lost

and tears dropping onto her lap

as we drove through the arizona desert

we watched

and hurt

and waited

as the songs repeated

and the tears kept flowing

i use to think she was weak

allowing us a front row seat to the brokenness

as we sat in the back with nowhere to go

crumbling

but now

holding tears of my own

all alone

i believe it's one of the strongest pictures she ever displayed to us

drive on my dears

there is strength in your tears

(thank you)

Fading

Today I noticed the steam coming out of Chloe's cup. Untouched, it sat on a coaster by a window filling our apartment with the morning sun.

And I just watched it. Truly, it was beautiful. It rose higher and higher and twirled and swayed and disappeared into the sun.

But then slowly, it faded, as the untouched tea turned lukewarm. Yet I can't not be fascinated with it.

The steam, etched in my memory.

Last night, my mom started a fire in the living room. It was the last fire she'd have in our family home. Today she moves out for good.

And I can just picture the flames burning brighter as it heats up. I picture their dance and begin to hear pops of music. I cannot look away.

But then it fades.

Slowly dies.

Darkness.

Yet the memories are still there. Long talks with friends and family while holding cups of coffee, laying on the wood floor with murphy in the morning, challenging myself to see how many pieces of wood I can carry inside the house this time, accidentally giving me little brother a bloody nose at age 7 while playing cowboy and horsey.

But time does not stop, and memories too, begin to fade.

I was not there last night. I did not sit there mourning the last of our fires. I did not try and picture the many fires that are yet to come, creating new memories for people I do not know. Instead, I'm sitting on my apartment's futon watching the last of the steam barely make its way past the rim of Chloe's cup.

And it feels like I'm saying goodbye.

simple yet beautiful

i have fallen in love with the sound of people living.
sitting on a bench outside the train stop
listening to the sound of laughter and chirping birds floating across the wind
coming from children playing soccer with their dad.
simple yet beautiful.

i turn to my friend and smile.
and she says
"i love the sound of people living."
and we laugh bc. i had said the exact same thing yesterday
and boy isn't it so simple yet beautiful.

the tracks begin to shake with the warning of a coming train
and the laughing and birds begin to fade away
yet it does not cease.
and my friend and i go on living
exploring new places,
trying new food,
seeing new views outside my train window.

simple yet beautiful
living
in this complicated world of ours.
don't forget to stop and listen to it.