What Do Horses, a Magic Tutu, a Parade, and a Motherlode of Joy have in common? KIM!

I woke up this morning and memories of Kim, my soul mate, flooded in, wrapping me in a warm fuzzy blanket of love. I could write forever and not cover all the stories I have about our time together. And I never feel like I’m telling them as well as I could, but in an effort to put out my stories whether they feel ready or not (they never feel ready), here’s what came to me this morning.

Like a true best friend and soul mate, Kim always wanted to make my dreams come true.

These are the wonderful memories that came to me this morning:

1) I told Kim that for every single birthday candle wish in my memory, I had wished for the same thing—a horse. As a child, I was one of those horse crazy girls who checked out every horse book from the library and read it cover to cover, taking notes on proper riding, boarding, and feeding techniques. For Christmas, my parents always gave me a stack of horse books, and to this day I have those stories memorized. Having my own horse was a pipe dream, as we never had the money for one, but for many years I lived across the street from Mr. Mollner, and he had a dappled gray horse who’s pasture touched my yard. I never knew the horse’s real name, but I named him Charcoal. I wasn’t allowed to ride him, but I spent a lot of time feeding him apples and talking to him. I also had a stable of imaginary horses that I had named and would ride around in the fields and meadows next to my house. I remember galloping around my backyard at twilight in the crisp autumn air, the wind in my hair, and seeing the lights in the windows of my house, my family bustling around the laying out games for family night where my aunt, who was a white witch, would read our tarot cards.

So when I met Kim, for my first birthday with her, she showed up at my single Hollywood bungalow with a wrapped package which I tore open, finding giant horse slippers that neighed when you pressed their ears. I loved them. I held them to my heart. She’d heard me deep heart wish! I clomped around in those horse slippers for years. (Eventually the bottom disintegrated, and one summer years later, during our town parade, my baby girl was dressed as a princess, and in a moment of genius I ran upstairs and made one of the horse slippers into a hat and put it on my ex’s head so he could be a horse carrying the princess. He protested loudly, but finally went along with it.)

2) For another holiday, Kim was shooting a movie on location and I was at my parent’s house, feeling sad and cold because my Dad refused to turn the heat up. I was sitting on the couch in my giant faux fur coat, mittens, and a hat, trying to make my teeth chatter so my Dad would take pity on me, when the doorbell rang. It was a package for me from Kim. I eagerly opened it up and inside was a beautiful tutu with rainbow ribbons and a matching wand. My heart sang and I was flooded with warmth when I put it on and started dancing around my house, my parents laughing and shaking their heads as I twirled through the kitchen where they were cooking my grandmother’s secret recipe and my Dad’s signature dish, Machaca. I called that tutu “The Magic Tutu” because it made me so happy. I wore it for my ice skating lessons, to teach dance to children, and any time I needed a little extra magic. I wore it to the many volunteer jobs Kim and I did together for the children with AIDS–she was usually a kitten, I was a ballerina or princess. My friend, Pleasant Gehman borrowed it to open our Marabou Christmas party as the Sugar Plum Fairy and I kept it until it was so tattered it no longer resembled a tutu but a pile of shredded tulle and ribbons. Who knew something so simple could bring so much joy?

3) This morning, I also remembered my last birthday in our Royal Palace. Kim put a tiara on my head and had me sit on my big pink bed because she had a surprise.

She ran into the back of our house and I could hear whispers and giggles as she prepared the surprise, which turned out to be… a parade!

Kim knew how much I loved parades, and so she created one for my birthday. She had a bunch of our friends gather in the back room of our house, then she turned on my favorite parade music, which was the “Topsy Turvy” song from Disney’s soundtrack of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I used to play it for the AIDS children I worked with. I would bring maracas and ribbons sticks and the kids and I would parade around the yard of the residential shelter where they lived. I would carry the kids who couldn’t walk, or they would cheerfully wave their sticks and move along on their crutches or in their wheelchairs. Because the kids loved parades as much as I did, I could indulge my parade love every week with them.

So for my birthday, Kim dipped into my magic bag and gave all my friends my ribbon sticks and maracas to shake at me, glitter and rose petals to throw on me, and leis and pretend jewels to put around my neck. They all looped through our kitchen and back in front of me again—most laughing awkwardly, feeling silly, but Kim was exuberant, and I was thrilled. At the end she put a crown on my boyfriend’s head of dark curls and presented me with him as a gift. My love of parades is one of the reasons I felt like I hit the motherlode when I moved to New Orleans. Now there’s a city of people who love parades like I do.

I hadn’t thought of the horse slippers, the Magic Tutu, or the parade in a long time. When the memories floated back to me, it felt like stumbling onto a trunk full of wonderful treasures.

And I hope wherever Kim is, she is feeling as much joy as she gave during her lifetime. Now that would be hitting the motherlode.

P.S.

KISMET!

While writing this, I decided I needed to know the origin of the word Motherlode so I did some digging (HA! Take that punmaster!). The Word Detective says that the word “lode” first appeared in Old English from the same Germanic roots as the word “lead”. So the word “lode” took on the meaning of a “guide or signal” as in the “lodestar”, a bright star in the sky used to navigate ships. The “lodestone” was a magnetic mineral used in early compasses!

Is that perfect for Kim or what? She was absolutely my guiding star and my compass, loving me and having faith in me, even when I didn’t have it for myself.

Starting in the 17^th century, the word “lode” came to mean a rich vein of mineral ore in the earth that would guide miners on their excavations.

And Kim’s love is also my guide as I dive deep and excavate my own grief over losing her and learning how to exist in the world without her physical presence.

Starting in the 19^th century, a jackpot find of earth treasures: gold, silver, diamonds, was called a “motherlode”.

Kim was my jackpot of treasures, believing that I brought magic to the world and that I mattered, even when I didn’t feel that myself.

And in a final twist of kismet, there was a “lode” during mining times called the Esmeralda, the most prominent lode of a certain mining district, AND Victor Hugo named his gypsy in Hunchback of Notre Dame Esmeralda. In the story, Esmeralda is a beautiful gypsy dancer who befriends and learns to love the hunchback outcast, Quasimodo, bringing us back to the parade and the choice of music, Topsy Turvy. The whole point of Topsy Turvy is a central point of Mardi Gras—people wear masks and throw “things” meaning the rich and the poor can change places as no one knows who is who, and abundance is given to everyone, regardless of their station in life.

Wow.

Kim was a beautiful dancer who loved every quirky part of me—the beautiful and the un-beautiful. We were not technically “royals”, (although if the Mayans were in charge, I might be since my great great grandmother was a Mayan Indian princess), but we felt royal when we were together and we called our house The Royal Palace and we created a life together as sumptuous and fabulous as any palace anywhere I think. Our riches and treasures lay in our deep, abiding, joyful love for each other that created more magic than there are words to describe. Having Kim as my soulmate was like hitting the motherlode.

Sigh.

Also I prefer Disney’s ending to Hunchback over Victor’s, where Quasimodo swings out and saves Esmeralda’s life. I can’t get into details. It’s all too sad.

Sigh.