Stones

My weekend was great. A trip with a dear friend to a great place. We shared our old memories, then shared the wisdom 20 years can bring to a life. We are the same. We are different. We are wiser, older. Etched with time and care, love and loss. As Robert often says,
'It is not the age, it is the mileage.' And so it also goes with friendships.

So we sat Sunday morning, together. No words. At the tomb of the unknown soldier in Arlington National Cemetery. As the clicks of the heels rang in the silence, the sun was very intense and hot for November. The cloudless sky was bright blue. The leaves were falling.

The moment really cannot be expressed in words. The leaves were really the key. Like golden rain, or embers falling. They shimmered. They sang. It was a tribute to the fallen. As though they were symbols of the lives that were given in glory, in war, in service. My tears rained down, too.

I cried because of the lives given for me. My freedom. How I would feel if it were Ryan guarding, clicking his heels, carrying the gun with the bayonet. And my feelings about the tomb if Ryan were resting underneath its' marble base. Thinking about the unknown soldiers' sacrifice..I cried more. The guard turned toward us, and looked straight at me with my tear-stained face. He was incredibly young. I felt a surge of pride for him. And for America.

The guard changed. As we turned to go, more leaves rained down in a shower of gold. As the fall slips into the winter, the stones will remember the gold tribute nature which nature provided that day for the fallen. May we never forget the tribute they made with their lives, as they 'fell like embers.'

Stones

Red and gold they shimmer down
Setting fire to the ground
leaves that smolder on the ground
while lighting up the sky

Stones are cold as fire ignites
Rows and rows of stones in white
Stones they whisper to the night
With voices soft and cold.

Red and green, and blue is seen
Yellow is falling in between
And stones are white and still and clean
As the voices sigh

Trees are bare, the sky is gray
Remembering the yesterday
When embers fell, Like soldiers they
Sacrificing true.

So gather up the leaves of gold
their story as it should be told
Of fallen ones, the soldiers bold
Sleeping, sleeping.
Their memory keeping.
Under stones of white.
And tributes of gold.

Indigo Child

Daylight savings time is over and the days are shorter now..the night falls quickly and the sun is up early. Unfortunately today it did not help me, and I overslept slightly.

But Ryan, like the special sweet responsible guy he is wakes me up. Tells me "Mom its after 6:30! I am already ready and dressed." A being that is 10 years old is a constant blessing in the Heil house.

For those that don't know Ryan, he has overcome many many challenges and is a source of great pride to me. He is not academic. Has many learning problems. He has a disorder that makes him zone out and stare. Asks too many questions, the same questions over and over. He has had unreasonable fears, doubts, and problems. He needed years of therapy to overcome the physical challenges, and the emotional. I was told he would never swim, never learn to ride a bike, never walk a balance beam without falling. He proved them wrong. He compensated and can do all of those things, and ace the rest of the 5th graders around the track. He is a living breathing example of determination and will, and amazing grace.

I have spent my entire life achieving what I perceived as greatness. Always the next thing, the next win, the next big goal reached. I was always striving for more, and I really thought that in achieving more I would be more worthy of love. I needed to be the smartest, prettiest, most accomplished or I was worth nothing.

Then God gave me Ryan and I realized that we are worthwhile simply because we are.

Ryan has amazing talents. He can include people and integrate groups of kids. He has an intuition about people and can actually feel their feelings. He is sensitive and wonderful, and everyone that meets him usually loves him, from senior citizens all the way down to two-year- old's. A feat that I cannot duplicate. I am not sensitive to others' feelings the way he is. Where I am pushy he is open, where I am aggressive he is giving. He shows me that I am not the way I should be. It is humbling. I am grateful.

So I went to dinner with a friend. I was telling her about Ryan, and she said "oh he must be an indigo child." I didn't know what that was, but apparently there are children with a high level of intuition, spirit sensitivity lacking in the rest of us. They are the ones that bring peace to groups and to the world. I don't know if Ryan is, but I loved the idea and decided it would make a wonderful song.

So I dedicate this to Ryan and to all children that are trying to make the world better by being exactly who they are. Sensitive, free, wild, peace-filled and full of love.

Indigo Child

Roll with the Wind down to the sea

Go to the place where the stars want to be

Reflect your light down on the sand

Turn your face to silver strand

Color of ocean, color of night

Your color was made, crystal and bright

So stay free, young and wild

Beautiful one, my indigo child

Don't you let your colors fade

From the deep deep blue to shades of gray

Ultramarine rich and free

Becoming what you were intended to be

Roll out with the winter wind

Light the Auroras and let it begin

Clear as the night on the solstice you rise

Winter is brought by the indigo child

Color of ocean, color of night

Your color was made crystal and bright

So stay free young and wild

Beautiful one, my indigo child.

Beautiful one, my indigo child.