It is a warm autumn afternoon in Albuquerque and I find myself laying in front of our small adobe house on a banco and under the blue and white of the sky. I have wandered outside to wait for my son, Evan, to be dropped off by his grandparents and I have found a small triangle of shade on the banco for my face while the rest of me absorbs the sun.
After a time, I notice the cranes. They fly quite high up in the distance with distinct calls and a variety of flight patterns which they repeat again and again. In lines and Vs numbering 7 or 12 or 22, they swirl into circles that join them all together before breaking off again into shorter lines and Vs.
I am thoroughly mesmerized.
Surrounded by four trees and a few houses, I have a large window of leaves, branches and stucco walls through which to observe their choreography. Many minutes pass before I notice the smaller birds in the trees around me. They chirp and sing, dart in and around the branches, and rustle the leaves. They become the orchestra and the cranes the dancers in my personal theater.
And though I can hear the hum of cars with the occasional punctuation of a truck or motorcycle, the sounds of nature define my rest. I even hear the intermittent dry leaf drop to the ground with only the slightest touch of a passing breeze.
I am reminded today, as I lay here, of the first years after my daughter, Sky, passed away. So many of my hours thereafter were spent laying, walking, falling, kneeling and finally leaning into the natural world. I hoped that nature would absorb some of my pain. Often, it did.
In her last year with me, Sky and I had several conversations about religion, spirituality, the meaning of life, and where we go after death. She wanted to understand through me but, I explained to her, each of us must discover these answers for ourselves. I encouraged her to go beyond my words and visit church services with her friends and to read anything that spoke to her soul. On one of her last Sundays with me, we attended The Church of Beethoven where we heard poetry and music over steaming mugs of coffee and hot chocolate.
Sky’s memorial was held there a few weeks later.
Once during our last year together and driving home with Sky next to me in the car, she asked where I thought she would go if she passed away. “I don’t know,” I replied, distracted by the evening traffic. “Maybe you’d turn into a field of flowers.” Sky smiled and looked out of her window.
The last house where Sky and I lived together was at the base of the Sandia Mountains. I often referred to our view of the everchanging sky as a beautiful theater. We had a running joke between us where I’d say, “Look at the beautiful sky!” and she’d laughingly answer, “Thank you!”
In this picture of Sky, she is “flying” with the geese in a field. The Sandia Mountains are behind her. This photo was taken by her sweet friend, Sofia Resnik, ten years ago for one of Sofia’s school magazine projects and just a few months before Sky passed away.
Sofia has since grown to be a beautiful woman and is the Editor in Chief of the international fashion publication, Zephyr Magazine. She has also joined me and her mother, artist and illustrator Ophelia Cornet, in working on our children’s book, Evan and the Skygoats, as Design & Editorial Consultant.
Leaf Storm Press released Evan and the Skygoats a few weeks ago and our first reading was at Bookworks in Albuquerque. For this event, Ophelia created a kids art project by tracing the cover of Evan and the Skygoats for each child to color. So many young people sat on the floor in front of the audience simultaneously listening, watching and coloring as I read and Ophelia showed the pictures from our book. The kids also joined in during our Q&A with such thoughtful questions and profound comments that many of us adults were impressed beyond expectation. My heart was full.
Here is another story from a few weeks ago…
I am at one of my favorite Albuquerque coffee houses, Cutbow Coffee. So much of the work on and around Evan and the Skygoats has been done here and a few of the staff and regulars have become sweetly familiar to me.
It is almost lunchtime so their coffee rush has ended and owner, Paul, and I chat for a minute about coffee before he asks about our book. He has heard that it deals with grief but he doesn’t know any of the specifics. When he asks me to tell him more, I’m surprised that I’m surprised by this natural progression of our conversation. Tears come to both of our eyes as I explain that the story is based on the loss of my daughter when she was 13 years old. We share a painful moment. I know he is a parent too.
And then I mention the additional book theme of healing with goats and one of our beloved coffee baristas, Zoe, who is also working behind the counter exclaims, “Goats—I love goats!” We have a lively exchange and she tells me she hopes to someday live on a farm and raise goats. I show her photographs of Electra, Evening and Ebony—the real goats who became the Skygoats in my story. She says Nubians are her favorite.
How amazing it is to me that these creatures continuously help me to navigate my world, even by only their mention, as in an unexpected conversation. I have thought that this theme follows me everywhere but, as I write this, I correct myself and acknowledge that I carry this theme with me everywhere—this theme of the goats in my story, of creatures living with and around us, and of all nature helping me to heal.
When people ask me the age of the intended audience for Evan and the Skygoats, I tell them that it is for children ages 3 to 103. Because living in beauty and finding hope, even as we grieve, is a universal experience that can be wished for after any loss. And a thoughtful children’s book should speak to all of us—children as well as their families, friends and teachers who read to or with them.
This is my wish for Evan and the Skygoats. I’ve also included a list of Love Thoughts for Someone Grieving as well as a list of Love Thoughts for Those Supporting Someone Grieving at the end o'f the book. One of these thoughts is “Slow down to watch other creatures on our planet earth.” The gift of these beings on our planet surrounds us always, even in the most unlikely of places.
Skykisses forever.
V.
Ophelia Cornet in her studio
P.S. A few weeks after my conversations at Cutbow Coffee, Paul offered us a reading and signing of Evan and the Skygoats at the coffee house. Additionally, Illustrator Ophelia Cornet will show some of her framed original book illustrations. Her art will be up at Cutbow Coffee for two weeks beginning at the Book Reading, Signing, and Illustration Art Show this Sunday afternoon, November 17th at 1 pm.
Samantha Daitz
P.P.S. After the reading, Evan’s sister, Samantha Daitz, will gift us with her voice and a song on her guitar.
Samantha has been performing and speaking on behalf of the Sky Velvet Vassar Music Foundation as their Spokesperson since she was eight years-old.
Read more about their mission and events here.
P.P.P.S. Exceptional musician and Sky’s beloved cello teacher, Lisa Donald, will perform at Cutbow Coffee before our book reading. Evan began studying cello last year with Lisa Donald. I took this photo of them during his very first lesson. Evan now continues his cello studies at school, studying with concert cellist and amazing teacher Nick Upton. Evan will play a song on his cello at the Cutbow Coffee event.
Evan and Lisa Donald