local to local
We had a bonfire for Cindy last night, Tesha, Sara Ann and I. They didn’t know her but care for Jessica and mothers and life in general. So together, we celebrated Cindy’s life, wished her safe passage and sent love and care to Jessica who will always love her mother and wrestle with her absence. The fire was hot and beautiful and we threw things into it and watched them burn: the date of Cindy’s birth, her name, tobacco to honor a life passed, copal to keep her journey safe, petals from my fathers rose that continues to bloom after his death, beach glass that will always remind me of my mother’s beach walks, a photo of clouds in a field of endless blue, and Jessica’s hand writing on an envelop to be sure our good wishes find her. Finally, with glasses of throat burning tequila we toasted Cynthia Charbonneau, tits, mothers, and the beyond.