I want

It is my desire for this blog to tell the stories of The Seahoose, the happy, the touching, the wonderful stories, nurture the memories so the stories thrive, for ours and all the Seahooses that sprinkled Crystal Beach.


It is my desire... but some days I am just pissed. And although a year later I think I should be far enough along in the grieving process to be comforted by the memory stories.... I am dealing with the child in me who wants what I had, stupid hurricane Ike or not.

I want to see my Mama's face in the sunlight on the deck.

I want to get frustrated when Bop and company kick my butt at hearts, exchanging looks that only cut-throat hearts players understand.

I want to wake up early and go into Mama and Bop's room, them still in bed, the news channel blaring from the tv that hung from the ceiling over the bed, crawl up between them with my coffee and have Mama turn the TV sound down when she asks me to tell her and Bop "everything that happened the night before after they went to sleep".

I want to go out on the deck to smoke a cigarette and discover there are planckton (sp?) in the water making the waves glow like they were lit by a blacklight and smoke three cause it's so cool to see.

I want to get the kids to bed and sit on the deck with my brothers and sisters, brothers and sisters in-law, friends and neighbors, laughing til the wee hours of the morning (and recount it all over coffee with Mama and Bop).

I want Bop to ask me to put rosy cheeks on the concrete statue of the blessed Mother Mary cause we put flower wreaths on her head and "It would look so pretty if She had rosy cheeks like Mama".

I want to walk on the beach with my sisters, rarely speaking, together yet alone in our quest, when the only words spoken are "Look what I found" and we are completely together in our wonder (one of those times it was The Rock Man's face).

I want to be annoyed cause my siblings+ show up and no one brought towels or thought about what the heck we were gonna feed all these people (and not be annoyed this time).

I want an early morning pelican fly-over so I can say "Hello Mama".

I want ...I want...I want...


I want....I want...


I want....


As I climb into bed in my apartment in Houston, I don't want to punch a button on the sound machine that makes ocean sounds so can sleep at night. Some days I am just pissed.