summer daze

in the spirit of the dog days of summer,
i've started over.
the photos that didn't get posted 
will just have to understand.
i am continuing with purpose.
*strapping camera onto body*

http://katmcculloughphoto.blogspot.com

almost 8

these days, i try and scoop him up as much as he will allow
because soon, he will be too heavy.
and too cool.


one month from today, he will begin his eighth year.
jeez louise...slow it down.

how summer rolls

summer is about saying yes 
when friends invite you to grab midday nosh 
and ride around the harbor. 

snow day

snow gazing.
house of cards.
coffee.
just me and the hound.

we miss the boy.
it is too quiet.

pre-storm gratitude

dear baltimore city public schools,
why yes. i will have another beer.
thank you for taking away the
hourly-all-night-text-vigil to see if you will close tomorrow.
thank you for this impromptu girls' night.
with all my  heart, kathleen

iced over

trapped inside.
the cute bunny
along with the sad boy
is almost too much to bear

back home

reflecting on the funeral and loss of a sweet friend, i took a drive down
port tobacco road to chapel point.
i parked as close as i could get to this house and waded through the grass
and the "no trespassing" gate.
in high school, we used to have band practice on this porch.
i have fond memories of long conversations while stripping tobacco in the
barn out back in the winter, and coming in for mrs. goldsmith's home-cooked meals
around the big round table in the kitchen.
it felt good to come here after reconnecting with high school friends today.
it felt good to be back in charles county, on country roads, winding past farm fields,
leading down to the river.
time moves quickly.
it changes everything.
it's not new to me...but today reminded me that we only have a short time to rock this life.

so get to it.

i want to be seven, too.

mama, do you want to play bear-ninja-cowboy?
it's just like rock-paper-scissors...

countdown

it's nice to have
each day begin with a little sweetness.
not a bad way to count down the arrival of
the man-in-red.
25 days to reflect on the year,
loving up on family
and friends.

the tree.
the decorations.
the baking.
the hope for good sledding conditions...pleasepleaseplease.

glitter and snowglobes.
egg nog and hot cocoa.
rosy cheeks, mittens, and singing carols.

deep in my heart,
i am grateful that i have my boy to hold.
grateful for this community of friends that we have.

this world can be a crazy, sad, unsafe, unfair, unequal place.
it is daunting.
overwhelming.
unbearable to listen and watch...to be aware of the truth.
and we have so much work to do, people.

take care of each other.
no, really.
take. care. of. each. other.
reach out and do good.
be good. to one another.

love deeply.
love hard.
open up the dialogue.
look at people and speak of love and concern.

and don't take a single second for granted.

flying

i stop half a block down the street from the school.
i've agreed to let the chop walk up to the corner and
cross with the crossing guard, mr. christopher, all by himself.
i move to hug him after his backpack is on and his mandolin case is secure.

mama...
he whispers, looking around.
people are looking...

this kid.
this amazing boy.

i am so proud and heartbroken at the same time.

sue.

when i was eight, my parents divorced.
eventually, i moved in with my dad and
my brother moved in with our mother.

"if you don't come back, i am going to
move far away."

she used to call me on saturdays and
tell me what a great time she and my
brother were having in florida.
eight-year-old me listened as she told me
how they played in the ocean all morning
after a breakfast of pancakes and hot chocolate.

i saw her when i was eleven.
leaving my dad and his new wife in maryland,
i spent the summer with sue and her boyfriend.
that is the summer that i first tried pot.
her boyfriend's oldest daughter, eighteen,
and i rolled the joints in our shared bedroom
and smoked them every day.
all day.

that fall,  i told her that i didn't want to stay
for the whole summer the following year.
i didn't hear from her again.
not one card. phone call. visit.
nothing.
she was angry with me.
i was dismissed completely.

years went by.
seven years.
middle school.
high school.
heartbreak and celebrations.
accomplishments and downfalls.

i contacted her when i was eighteen.
i drove to my grandmother's house to surprise her.
by the end of the day
"fuck off" was the last thing i said to her.
she replied with the same.

i tried again after my father died.
i was twenty-one.
and for eight strained years, we attempted
communication.
"have a nice life" was the last thing she said to me,
angry about the relationship i have with the woman who raised me.
she had only animosity towards the woman who took care of her daughter
and made sure she was loved.
"have a nice life."

that was almost twenty years ago.

i have often thought of writing to her.
asking for an explanation.
or calling her out on being selfish.
and hateful.
and fucked up.

i wanted her to know that i am doing everything
in my power to be the exact opposite of what she was to me.
that i love my child and am a good mother
regardless of the model she provided for me.

at almost-forty-eight, i wanted her to
acknowledge that she missed out
on all that i am.
i wanted her to know that i do have a nice life.
i am creative and am surrounded by amazing people
and have a fantastic child
that is part her.

have a nice life.

it crushes me to imagine
walking away from the chop
in the same way.



sue died one week ago.

while i was celebrating my son's seventh birthday,
she was in an emergency room.
in georgia.
she died before they could treat her.
she was 75.

in some crazy way,
i imagine her reading this
and having closure.
for both of us.

seven

this boy,
at the beginning of each day,
puts both hands on my face and
kisses my cheek.
"good morning," he whispers.
wrapping his arms around my neck,
he hugs me hard.

this boy.
full of intensity
and loudness.
he feels deeply and thoughtfully,
his heart swells with and is sometimes crushed,
wanting to be understood and heard
in a world of big people and knowledge.

he loves
his mama and papa,
his family,
his dog,
his legos and stuffies.

he is a rockstar.
an artist.
the world's best snuggler.
and egg cracker.

sweet boy, i don't know how i ever came to deserve you.
you have saved me from giving up on this crazy world
and have filled my heart like i never though possible.

proud? that doesn't even begin to cover it.

happy birthday, sweet baby chop.
you are going to rock seven. i have no doubt.

heavy energy

we all die.
i know that.
how it's going to go down?
that is the mystery.
that is the freak out.

when the mama of two wee ones
suddenly dies, the world comes to a halt.
nothing else seems more important than
our babies.
our friends.
our loves.

the strength to move on and live...
really live, takes courage.
it takes an open heart and the ability to
ignore the disheslaundryunmadebeds and
focus on snugglingplayingsinginglaughing instead.

what if this were your last day?
without dwelling on the inevitable end,
can you say that your heart is full? i mean, reallyreally full?

i rush the chop through the door in the morning,
comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon
we're going to be late for school!
and honestly, when i think about it,
i would rather be a few minutes late
and take our time walking up the hill towards the school.
deep breaths. remember what is important in this short life.
stopping to say hello to a neighbor,
connections of the heart. absorb the goodness.
or ponder the new mural on the corner of barclay and federal.
you never know what each day will bring.

i want to freeze time.
rewind time.
go back and tell people how much i admire them
and am grateful for them
before it's too late.

lesson learned here, again, dearest beth.
i will miss your spirit and light.



my horoscope today:

Your persistent search for the truth may uncover 
important realizations that change your day for the better. 
But it's not easy to find an uplifting story 
in the midst of heavy energy today. 
You're sorting out your emotions now and could 
learn an important lesson along the way. 
You haven't chosen an easy journey, 
but exploring beneath the surface alters your perspective 
and gives you a brand new lease on life. 
Thankfully, your courageous heart knows no bounds.

again

the long drive is over.
car unpacked.
bedrooms selected.
flip flops on and you're  running.
running because this is what you have been waiting for.

this.

when you finally get to this point, you know the healing will begin.
the waves remove the worry and the stress with each crash.
the ocean is the starting point.
again.

the wait

it happens every year.
we are teased by the warm weather
and the last traces of snow in shady crevices.
we run fast and feel the breath of spring
on these sunny, breezy days.
shedding our jackets,
and letting the air touch our skin seems like magic.
longer days promise more time for bike riding,
ball playing, playground meet ups, and meals eaten on blankets.

welcome spring.
we have been waiting for you.

goodbye kiss

mama, i want to put my oscar hat on so i'll have braids, too.

that's sweet, baby. that will make a good picture.

i love you, mama.

and i love you.

*pause.*

you know, it's ok if you don't want to kiss me goodbye
when i take you to school.
i know it's because you don't want the older kids to think
you're a baby.

that's not true.

*picking him up to stage the shot.*

ok. it is true. 

*click*



"and in the end,
we were all just humans...
drunk on the idea that love,
only love,
could heal our brokenness."
-f. scott fitzgerald

sole sisters

"now you can enter your new chapter with cute shoes."

that's what the email said.
the email that asked what size i wear.
the email that explained why the gift was to be given.

and i cried.
and she did, too.

good tears. 
friendship tears.
sisterhood tears.

don't stop

if you imagine less, less will be what you undoubtedly deserve.
do what you love, and don't stop until you get what you love.
work as hard as you can, imagine immensities,
don't compromise,
and don't waste time.
start now.
not 20 years from now,
not two weeks from now.
now.

- debbie millman

(thank you, vanessa, for sharing this lovely quote with me. xo)

big boy now

wait! come back! 

may i have a kiss?

(we were running late and

rushing to the front door of the school.)

you can have a hug mama.

no kiss?

*insert sad mama-face here*

it will be ok mama.

(big hug. then he smiled and ran inside.)

he is taking off. 

growing up.

becoming independent.

my broken mama-bear-heart couldn't be more proud.

keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

heal

this yuck that has attacked my immune system?
it's goin' down.
i don't have time for this.

for the next 30 days, this mama, and the chop,
does not have health insurance.
(prayers for health appreciated.)

19 more days of living on the edge, people.
ten plus nine more days of wrapping the boy in bubble-wrap
from head to toe and making sure his mouth guard is in place.
a little more than half a month for the state to believe that, in fact, 
trader joe's is really not covering me anymore.

so sure, i'll drink to my health.
filtered water only, please.
and could you pass me an apple?

  
to see my 2014 one-a-day project unfold, click here.
to see photos from the other fabulous people who are taking the journey with me,
click here.

sea legs

my legs were shaking as i stood up in the dinghy.
i put my clunky boot on the metal support bar of the wind vane,
grasped the rail tightly, and
pulled myself up and over
the rigging and down into the cockpit.

i carefully climbed up and walked along the side toward the bow,
holding onto nothing.

i still have my sea legs.

i secured my footing and balanced on the deck.
lifting my gaze, i was taken by
the reflection of the shoreline.
i smiled and felt the cold, damp air on my face.
the stillness of the night and the
dark, arms of the trees illustrated the
ache i have felt in my heart as of late.
the glass-like water  moved with nereid,
allowing her to slightly rock in the water.
movement: not good for taking photos in the dark.
i lifted my camera, took a deep breath
and held it in.

*click*

it wasn't what i expected.
it isn't  the capture i had intended.
i think it is even better.

the end of a year.
the beginning of another.
this night, this cove. the gentle rocking of the boat.
this deep friendship that picks up where we always leave off.
all fueling my heart's meditation to be open to the surprises
and challenges that await.

christmas eve

the most magical day of december: christmas eve.
you can feel it in the air;
feel it in your energy;
in your heart.

it's not about the presents.
it's about people.
it's about the love.
near and far.

merry christmas.

preparation

countdown

a little bit of chocolate as we count each
unopened, tiny door.
six days.
six wake-ups and santa will have been here.
six.
six days until paprikash fills our bellies
as we savor the last days before the new year.

the moon

oh gosh…you gorgeous moon that tugs at our heart and logic.
it was nice to see you as i walked along the brick streets and waterfront of
fell's point on this almost-solstice eve.
you sweet, swoony moon that holds promises and dreams.

ale and conversation at the wharf rat in fell's point.

the dog

having a furry being in the house forces one to get out.
look around.
breathe.
and maybe even find a reason to be in awe of colors
and textures
and lines.
and perhaps find some love left by a stranger
for another stranger
like you.

where there is love

presents from santa are wrapped and hidden well.
tamales, bourbon, and snuggly puppy make me warm
while hoots and hellmouth do their thing through my speakers.

goodness.
wrap it around you.
breathe it in.
wear it in a parade down your street
while singing at the top of your lungs.
your breath, hot and smoky in the cold christmas air.