Seeking her comfort

Astar is important to me. I suppose our friendship is unlikely, she is the same age as my mother, I spend more time with her daughter Mezoo and since I have moved I have not seen her at all. Fonce had instigated our bond after the.. accident. I should thank him for that. In giving me Astar he gave me a sister, a mother and a friend. When I think of Astar I think of her hands. She has gentle hands. More gentle then most, more so then my own. When I am sad it is often Astar I want to hold me. It is her gentle shushing I want in my ear. It is her hands I want on my cheeks.

Everything in my world is right today. I spent my morning with Aamon, barefoot on the plains learning how to feel all over again. How to feel the wind on my skin and the brush of the grass. I pay more attention now to how my skirt lays against my ankle and how the light catches in certian peoples eyes. I will be a Singer, my daughter will learn to ride, my son has begun to grow and cry less and soon I will be of the first wagons.

But something dogs my steps, something nags at me in the back of my head, something eats me up inside and spits back out this facade of me, a smiling woman who is calm and patient and terribly docile. Something mocks me. Something doesn't see me. Something hurts me. Something is all too aware of somethings unawareness. Somthing sucks.

I sought Astar after lunch, leaving the children with Magda again. I found her by the stream, washing a large square of purple cloth. Shiny gold threads had been woven into it and as she shook it out I was captured by how it played in the light.. how it glimmered. Like I glimmer down deep inside. The silly cloth ruined everything. I was smiling before I began to look. Astar looked up and waved at me, she smiled. I was smiling.

But by the time I had closed the space between us I was crying, big fat pitiful tears were spilling down my cheeks and I hated that cloth. I wanted to tear it from her and stomp all over it. How dare it be so shiny happy! How dare it show itself so freely in the sun! I felt mocked.

I felt absurd.

Astar looked surprised at my sudden shift and I sank to my knees beside her in the grass where she, without question or demand or reprimand, folded me into her slender arms and stroked my hair. I closed my eyes and let her comfort seep into my bones and fill me up. She was the medicine I needed.. a little unconditional motherly love. She rocked me a little, like I was child and, maybe for a moment, I was.

After a while I lifted my head and Astar took my cheeks in her hands and wiped away my tears with her thumbs. She smiled at me as we sat in the dappled sunshine by the stream.

"It will be all right. You will see."

And I .. believed her.

The rest of my day was, some might say, wasted in quiet talk with Astar. If you had passed by us that day you would have been struck by the privacy there seemed to be between her and I . You might have felt unwilling to interupt. Our laughter was soft and quiet. I helped her work on that purple and gold cloth. I silently apoligized to the cloth for my silly hatred.

The cloth, like my heartache, is beautiful.

I may hate it, I may feel jealous of it but it is still beautiful. I might think the purple cloth is a blind fool but it still beautiful. We wrapped it over a low hanging branch from the solitary tree to dry and we sat in it's shade, letting it cool us. It was a day well spent, I think and before I left she told me again...

'It will be all right. You will see."

And I .. believed her.