Four years

Liam's story

One year

The anticipation of Liam's birthday this year has been particularly hard. I do not know why this year has been harder than any other, but there have been lots of tears over the past two weeks. When I was at work, on Tuesday, I walked by this cute family in the lobby of our studio; a mom, a little girl and a baby boy asleep in his carriage. Normally this is not a sight that would bother me, but as I walked past the baby stirred and like some cruel joke from the universe the mom says "Look, he's awake, good morning Liam!" "Hello Liam!" the little girl chimed right in after her mother. I couldn't run into my office and sob fast enough. Of all of the baby names in the world, that little boy had to be "Liam." Wrong place, wrong time, my little napping friend...

I have always been a person that relates to music in a very personal way. A song can conjure up such strong feelings for me, or take me back to a very specific moment in my life. My first dance class back from the loss, the instructor played "The Promise" by Tracy Chapman. Although I had heard this song many times before, the lyrics took on a whole new meaning for me at that moment. I left the room, and promptly cried. Ever since then, this song reminds me of my peanut, and I would like to share it with you today. When I listen to it, I imagine that it's a conversation that Liam and I would have in a dream, some place, some where.



If you wait for me
then I'll come for you.
Although I've traveled far,
I always hold a place for you in my heart.

If you think of me,
if you miss me once in awhile,
then I'll return to you.
I'll return and fill that space in your heart.

Remembering
your touch,
your kiss,
your warm embrace,
I'll find my way
back to you.
If you'll be waiting...

If you dream of me
like I dream of you,
in a place that's warm and dark,
in a place where I can feel the beating of your heart.

Remembering
your touch,
your kiss,
your warm embrace,
I'll find my way
back to you.
If you'll be waiting...

I've longed for you
and I have desired
to see your face your smile,
to be with you wherever you are.

Remembering
your touch,
your kiss,
your warm embrace,
I'll find my way
back to you.
Please say you'll be waiting.

Together again
it would feel so good to be,
in your arms,
where all my journeys end.
If you can make a promise,
if it's one that you can keep,
I vow to come for you,
if you wait for me.

And say you'll hold
a place for me
in your heart.


Happy birthday little man. I can't believe you would be four this year! Four! I've longed for you, your face, your smile, and I still love you so much, wherever you are.

Eye Spy...some one that made me laugh, RIP Erica

Yesterday I found out that a dance friend of mine from college, Erica, passed away on Saturday morning.

Erica, on the right



Erica was sassy and hilarious. She could make faces during rehearsals that would send me over the edge giggling. She was incredibly fun to be around because she was always so happy. She was just one of those people that radiated goodness.

Erica, back row, far right. Me, far right.



Which is why when she was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after we graduated that I had no doubt that she would beat it. I never considered that death was a possibility for some one so young, so full of positivity and so full of life.

Sadly I was wrong.

The last time that I saw her was at our friends' wedding a few years back. She was glowing. Bald and thin, but glowing. Her doctors thought that she was on the mend, and I was so happy for her.

We lost touch after that. It's a sad thing to lose touch with a friend, but it's an unfortunate fact of life. I was just thinking about her a couple of weeks ago, wondering how she was. Yesterday I found out through friends that just last week she was told that the cancer had spread to her liver. It was a matter of days after that. She passed away in her sleep on Saturday after a nice day at the hospital surrounded by her family. It was a peaceful end, and she was not in pain. I suppose that is the most that one could have hoped for.

I wish that I had been better about keeping touch, but there is nothing to be done about that now. I was lucky to have her in my life for a brief time, and I will always be grateful for that. She will be missed.

Good bye to the Divine Ms. Miller, I hope that you're dancing wherever you are!

I *AM* Worthy

:: WARNING THIS POST IS EPIC::

This is going to be a *LONG* post (but there's video entertainment!) so you might want to settle in with a good cup of tea or coffee, and maybe get your tissues out. I'm about to get a wee bit philosophical in a way that is a little different than my usual crafty, knitting, recipe sharing blog posts, so bear with me people!

Firstly, as a birthday present to myself, I bought two tickets to go see Trey McIntyre Project, a dance company. The performance marked the group's premiere as a full time, year round touring dance company, and it took place at Jacob's Pillow. Now, for the non-dancer folk reading out there, let me enlighten you about something. Jacob's Pillow is like MECCA for dance. If there was a heaven on earth, for me, it would be Jacob's Pillow. Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival is the oldest continually running summer dance festival in America. The property itself is situated on an old farmstead in the middle of the stunningly beautiful Berkshires in western Massachusetts. There are two indoor theatres, one outdoor stage, a summer dance institute, library, free performances, etc, etc. Thousands of people flock there every year to see and experience high quality dance.

Here is an excerpt of one of pieces that I saw "The Reassuring Effects of Form and Poetry", Choreography by Trey McIntyre:



This was the last piece in the show and that short clip does not even begin to do it justice. Trey McIntyre is a genius in my eyes. He is using classical ballet technique, something that can be misunderstood as antiquated and stodgy, in a way that that is current and accessible. He moves dancers about the stage like a great artist moves his brush across the canvas.

I felt so blessed to be at that show, to have the opportunity to see great dance. For the first time in a long time, I cried during the end of the performance. I was so moved by what I saw on stage that I just lost it. When I was younger, this used to happen to me every time that I went to go see a professional dance performance. I was so excited and flabbergasted by great dancers' technique and control, I'd just sob my little heart out with joy. Now that I'm older, and I've seen so much wonderful dance and world class dancers, that it takes more than just stellar technique to bowl me over. This bowled me over.

Trey stepped onstage to take a bow with his dancers when the show was through, and I cried tears of joy for him. I felt so proud for what he had accomplished, and I also felt jealous.

What he is doing is exactly what I've always wanted to do with my life.

I get e-mails from Janice Taylor, who wrote Our Lady of Weight Loss, and the latest one contained an interview with someone that had survived through Hurricane Katrina. Like many of the survivors, this woman had turned to eating out and junk food as a coping mechanism, and subsequently had gained quite a few pounds post-Katrina. One of the quotes that really resonated with me was this:

"I am a musician, so you can well understand that music is very important to me; part of my every day life. I didn't think of myself as depressed, yet for an entire year I had no desire to sing or play my instruments. I was too tired to even listen to music. And I wasn't taking good care of myself. The feeling was 'what's the use?"

This is how I've felt about dancing for the past few years. In November it will be three years since Matt and I lost our baby boy, Liam. We both certainly had some dark times, as anybody would after such a tragedy, but I don't think that I would ever refer to what I've gone through as depression. I'm a generally happy, positive person, and life had to go on and did go on. But my life is very different now than it was before. I spend more time wishing that I was dancing and choreographing, and not actually dancing and choreographing.

Why?

Shame. I have felt ashamed of my physical appearance. Most of my best friends are dancers and have abs that you could bounce quarters off of. I accepted that pregnancy would change my body and I have abs that look like cottage cheese! I gained sixty pounds, I have lost only ten. I have no child to show for it, and a ruined instrument as far as dance is concerned. I've felt ashamed, because I've failed big time. I don't blame myself for what happened, I'm way beyond that stage of things, but I do blame myself for not doing anything about it.

However, like the musician, I don't think I've been able to do anything about it. I really don't. It is not a matter of diet, because I eat very healthfully, but it's a matter of exercise and mental determination. Moving the extra weight around has made it physically challenging and even painful for me to dance, or do much of anything for that matter. The weight has aggravated old dance injuries and created new ones. I'm so sick of it! I've used those things as excuses for far too long. Pain certainly never deterred me back in the day when I was training. I remember that my mum came to visit me at dance camp, one summer, and my toes were so blistered, my muscles so fatigued, that I had to hold on to the wall or a railing every where that we went. And what did I do? I got up the next day and danced for eight hours. And the next day and the next. Because I loved it!

Self Acceptance, originally uploaded by kittykill.

The embroidery above was featured on Feeling Stitchy and I thought that it was very appropriate for how I'm feeling. I've had a personal epiphany. I shouldn't give a damn about what I look like. My husband doesn't. My family doesn't. My friends certainly don't. The only person that's kept me from doing what I want to do in this life is ME. I'm tired of getting in my own damn way.

One of the things that precipitated this post/epiphany was the following video from Suzi Blu over at YouTube. She's a mixed media artist, but her inspirational videos carry a message for every one. You don't have to be an artist to appreciate the things that she says.

Watch this:



So what if I wear sweatpants. XL at that, *GASP*! I live in suburbia. I'm a dancer, I'm an artist, I'm NOT a sham anymore and I'm freaking worthy!!!

Now...I know these things. Let's see if I can apply it.

My goodness, that was even longer than I expected. If you read all of this, you're a trooper, and if we knew each other in the real world, I would hug you!

Today I'm grateful for taking small steps, towards big dreams. I am grateful for Suzi Blu, for inspiring me over and over and over again.

One year

I've had many happy things that I could have wrote about in the past few days, and even at this very moment I am feeling relatively happy, I can't conjure up a happy post without mention of today and yesterday.

Today is my son's first birthday. He would be one year old today had he been born alive. For anyone just coming to this blog you can read Liam's story here.

I have felt this weekend looming upon me for weeks. Yesterday I looked at the clock at 9:30 am and thought, this is the moment one year ago when we found out that our son, our first son was dead.

There are so many things that I haven't done during this year that I've wanted to do. Aside from all of the joys of having an infant that we have missed out on, I have not visited his grave. I don't even know where it is, to be honest, as I haven't been to the cemetery since the day that we buried him. I have not developed the disposable camera that contains pictures of the few hours that we spent holding him in our grief. I know that I have to develop it soon, but I am so frightened that some camera lackey will accidentally destroy the only visible evidence that our baby existed.

This year has been so filled with great joy and devastating sadness. I have not cried today, and I didn't cry yesterday. I have cried oceans this entire year and these days, that I thought were going to be so hard, weren't as hard as I thought that they would be. I miss this little being that I carried with me for 35 weeks every day, but life goes on, because it has to.

Maybe I'm rambling...but I just had to say something about it, because if I can't hug him and squeeze him on this day at least I can think about it.

Happy Birthday Liam Michael Cost, my angel baby, I still miss you more than anything.