'Aint No Sunshine When He's Gone...
Arriving right on time, he tapped on his car horn signaling his arrival and nonchalantly emerged from his silver BMW, with his carefree, man-child look, with hair that blew in a non-existent breeze. His face held all the smoothness of youth, not yet lined with years of experience, and his eyes —hazel and chaste— not yet filled with the weight of worldly things seen. His purity emerged in the way he stood and moved as he doesn’t yet know the underside of life or the whole kaleidoscope of complexity of being an adult. His mouth was drawn gentle and curved with innocence. What beauty I was glimpsing—the slept-on hair, the endearing scar on the upper brow from his water polo accident. His lips formed that bemused wit held by youth who think they know the wisdom of the world, yet do not.
His face had been designed for the word handsome. His chiseled cheekbones, firm chin, and aristocratic features all blended together to create a totally appealing and stunningly sensual appearance. With a thick mop of hair cut long to the collar, it framed his gently stubbled jawline. High, angled cheekbones sloped gently down to a proud delicate chin with his skin, golden brown from his days in the sun. His face was familiar and comfortable to me, yet in other ways, it was completely foreign.
I looked at this young man and once again felt my empty and drained soul fill full with life. How is he able to do that? Every time I am in his presence, when I am dried and withered, his mere presence lights my life and fills me with energy so pure and strong it can last for weeks. He is sunshine to my soul. This love I have for this boy borders on the indescribable. The connection between two souls so pure and so strong— my godson, light of my life.
I looked at this man-child who so proudly walked out of the California DMV with his driver’s license in hand, a knowing grin on his sweet face. All of a sudden I wondered, where did those precious 16 years go? Who is this child ready to drive me in his car?
I think this, but do not say it out loud to him. This child, heart of my hearts—I knew you before you were born! My godchild, my beloved boy, when did this metamorphosis occur taking you from the curly flaxen haired baby to this lean sultry adult who now can drive?
Although we are on different paths at this point in time, our souls will stay intertwined by memories and moments so intense they are forever engraved in our hearts.
Memories swirled through my head. I recalled the days gone by when I would come to his house and ring the doorbell with my special signature ring. I could hear him squeal with delight at the recognition of the sound, and I could hear his little feet thundering down the steps calling out my name. His chubby fingers would emerge through the mail slot on the door of the house waiting and eager to make flesh to flesh contact with mine. When the door opened, we would embrace like we hadn’t seen each other for years.
Oh the fun we had! Refrigerator boxes became fierce pirate battle ships with portholes. Fabric, ribbons and a bit of thread and duct tape became some of the best outfits that could rival any a costume designer could make. We would bake and decorate cookies until the kitchen was dusted in a thick veil of powdered sugar. With our mutual love of all things Native American, we would go from one Indian event to another collecting our artifacts. We could hunt down the best craft supplies at any craft store and spend happy hours making whatever our imaginations could dream.
He was so much a part of my life but now that he is grown with a life of his own, I ache with the pains of missing him. I yearn for those days again where, in his eyes, I was omnipotent and all- important, and he missed me so much he would cry when my car drove away from his house, while he ran down the driveway waving goodbye.
I stood by silently watching his metamorphosis occur through the years. I observed him pulling away bit by bit as he developed into an individual with a life of his own. His world became school, friends, sports, girls, and secrets we no longer shared.
Today, he is so proud— another marker toward adulthood. Today he got his driver’s license and that opens a whole new world of freedom for him, yet it is one more step away from me.
He smiled and my heart melted. “Get in," he said. “Let me take you for a ride.” When standing, he easily reaches a height of almost 6 feet tall; his body so toned and trim. He seems to emit an air of mystery about the life adventure that is to follow him.
He opened the car door for me and he began to drive. Soon we were stuck in traffic. I liked that the traffic was stalled so I could sit and stare at his finely arched brows— his delicately pointed nose that cuts quite a dashing figure. It was a beautiful night. I had never seen the sky so black... and the stars were like pin holes pushed through tissue paper that’s been wrapped around a light bulb. And I could stare at him while he drove and search his face for the little boy I used to know buried somewhere inside of him.
"Let me take you for a ride," he said… Oh he has no idea the ride he has already taken me on and the ride he will continue to take me on. That ride from babyhood to youth to a man. So much behind us, but so much ahead, for the metamorphosis is far from over...
Click here to see Jonathan's metamorphosis
His face had been designed for the word handsome. His chiseled cheekbones, firm chin, and aristocratic features all blended together to create a totally appealing and stunningly sensual appearance. With a thick mop of hair cut long to the collar, it framed his gently stubbled jawline. High, angled cheekbones sloped gently down to a proud delicate chin with his skin, golden brown from his days in the sun. His face was familiar and comfortable to me, yet in other ways, it was completely foreign.
I looked at this young man and once again felt my empty and drained soul fill full with life. How is he able to do that? Every time I am in his presence, when I am dried and withered, his mere presence lights my life and fills me with energy so pure and strong it can last for weeks. He is sunshine to my soul. This love I have for this boy borders on the indescribable. The connection between two souls so pure and so strong— my godson, light of my life.
I looked at this man-child who so proudly walked out of the California DMV with his driver’s license in hand, a knowing grin on his sweet face. All of a sudden I wondered, where did those precious 16 years go? Who is this child ready to drive me in his car?
I think this, but do not say it out loud to him. This child, heart of my hearts—I knew you before you were born! My godchild, my beloved boy, when did this metamorphosis occur taking you from the curly flaxen haired baby to this lean sultry adult who now can drive?
Although we are on different paths at this point in time, our souls will stay intertwined by memories and moments so intense they are forever engraved in our hearts.
Memories swirled through my head. I recalled the days gone by when I would come to his house and ring the doorbell with my special signature ring. I could hear him squeal with delight at the recognition of the sound, and I could hear his little feet thundering down the steps calling out my name. His chubby fingers would emerge through the mail slot on the door of the house waiting and eager to make flesh to flesh contact with mine. When the door opened, we would embrace like we hadn’t seen each other for years.
Oh the fun we had! Refrigerator boxes became fierce pirate battle ships with portholes. Fabric, ribbons and a bit of thread and duct tape became some of the best outfits that could rival any a costume designer could make. We would bake and decorate cookies until the kitchen was dusted in a thick veil of powdered sugar. With our mutual love of all things Native American, we would go from one Indian event to another collecting our artifacts. We could hunt down the best craft supplies at any craft store and spend happy hours making whatever our imaginations could dream.
He was so much a part of my life but now that he is grown with a life of his own, I ache with the pains of missing him. I yearn for those days again where, in his eyes, I was omnipotent and all- important, and he missed me so much he would cry when my car drove away from his house, while he ran down the driveway waving goodbye.
I stood by silently watching his metamorphosis occur through the years. I observed him pulling away bit by bit as he developed into an individual with a life of his own. His world became school, friends, sports, girls, and secrets we no longer shared.
Today, he is so proud— another marker toward adulthood. Today he got his driver’s license and that opens a whole new world of freedom for him, yet it is one more step away from me.
He smiled and my heart melted. “Get in," he said. “Let me take you for a ride.” When standing, he easily reaches a height of almost 6 feet tall; his body so toned and trim. He seems to emit an air of mystery about the life adventure that is to follow him.
He opened the car door for me and he began to drive. Soon we were stuck in traffic. I liked that the traffic was stalled so I could sit and stare at his finely arched brows— his delicately pointed nose that cuts quite a dashing figure. It was a beautiful night. I had never seen the sky so black... and the stars were like pin holes pushed through tissue paper that’s been wrapped around a light bulb. And I could stare at him while he drove and search his face for the little boy I used to know buried somewhere inside of him.
"Let me take you for a ride," he said… Oh he has no idea the ride he has already taken me on and the ride he will continue to take me on. That ride from babyhood to youth to a man. So much behind us, but so much ahead, for the metamorphosis is far from over...
Click here to see Jonathan's metamorphosis
Metamorphosis of Jonathan- a poem
Time passes-- the hour hand of the clock changes to a sweeping second hand and the little boy with his nose pressed to the window glass waiting for the sound of my door bell ring has evaporated into mists of adolescent fog.
Once dressed in costumes of folklore, those cloaks and masks of childhood heroes are replaced by
the masks of adulthood that the passage of time brings. He lives here and now, not in the past.
Indian artifacts line the lonely shelves of a boy who once knew where he came from,
waiting silently and patiently for that boy to return again.
The onion-layered memories-- I peel them off slowly
each layer of skin so fragile I risk breaking it.
Not too many layers or the smooth vulnerable root underneath
risks exposure.
We’ve shared our most precious thoughts with only the purest of intentions. Knowing you have taught me my own heart
and I yours.
Could it be through our metamorphosis we have found a pristine beginning?
I want to share my life with you. Each moment is only more beautiful when witnessed through your eyes.
Judged kindly based upon its fortitude, never neglecting the bliss of life’s surprises.
Moonlight and wisdom flavor your skin as I taste the
changing evolution of your mind.
I pluck gently at the strings of your instrument and listen
fervently as the chords of your voice play the music I long to hear.
Moonlight and wisdom flavor your skin as I taste the
changing evolution of your mind.
I pluck gently at the strings of your instrument and listen
fervently as the chords of your voice play the music I long to hear.
Your smile is red lightening streaking through the sky striking my heart,
while your boyhood silliness dances to a tune played in the whispering trees.
I appreciate your humor, charm, and intellect. Indeed there is truth of you being a superbeing for some how the thought of you can move me beyond natural forces.
Whether you are near or far you are always with me - I know you understand. I love you with all that I am and for all that you are or hope to be.
To glow in your impulses as much as your plans is the most genuine feeling I have ever known.
posted by Moonie at 10:08 PM
6 Comments:
Exquisite, just exquisite!
Moon
So powerful! I have a god-daughter, but we were separated when she was just a toddler, though a chain of events that I was powerless to stop. She would be 15 now. I knew her long before my DD was born, so she was like my first child. I miss her terribly even after all these years. She's frozen in my mind at 3, a strong-willed and etherial creature....almost of another plane. You're blessed to still have J. in your life, to be able to watch his transformation. And oh, the years ahead. He will withdraw, but like a moth to a flame, will always return to the light of his life!
Jane- how sad to be separated from your goddaughter. I can imagine how much you must yearn for her. Yes, you certainly understand what I am feeling.
You have a wonderful way with words. I truly enjoyed that and thought of my own daughter while reading it.
Moon, this is beautiful and moving. What a gift you are to him, as well!
Oh Moon, I sit here with tears streaming. I have a nephew who is on the verge of 21. I love him like he's my own. Your entry could have been describing my relationship with him. When he stood at the podium giving his valedictorian speach at high school grauation, I swear I had a flash back and saw him as a 4 year old standing there beaming like the sun at me. I don't see him enough now that he's in college and has a girlfriend. It seems like they grow in the blink of an eye. Oh, but aren't we blessed with the memories of pure joy!
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