A Wing


roostingSharing an odd train of thought.  I drive to work every morning on Main Street into Old Town Cottonwood in Arizona.  I see our beautiful mountain and our gorgeous blue skies.  And sometimes, as I enter Historic Old Town, on the left are some very old pine trees and sitting atop them, early in the morning, are about 24 turkey vultures.  Yep. Buzzards. Ugly yet beautiful creatures with enormous wing spans and huge black feathers.  They often roost on those trees at night. When I come driving by in the morning they are often in different stages of preparing to head out for the day.

Some still have their heads tucked tight, dozing in the dawn sunlight.  Some have their wings just barely open, pulled away from their shoulders in the typical vulture posture.  And some have their wings completely unfolded, showing their impressive wing span as they drink in the warm sun and get their blood turkey-vultures-1-of-1-8-blogmoving after a cold desert night. (Yes, for those that don’t know, as hot as it gets in the desert, it gets that cold at night.)

I smile every morning when I drive by those birds.  These birds often represent death but for me it reminds me of my twin sister who I lost less than 2-years ago.  It reminds me of the love and determination she had to live, pulling her unseen wings out every morning, stretching them wide to the sun to be there for those she loved. Living.

They are beautiful birds.

And sometimes, I get a pain of sorrow, when I drive away from my work in the afternoon to do an errand or lunch, and I see one of them still roosting on the tree.  I think to myself, “Oh no. He wasn’t able to fly this morning.  He wasn’t able to join the others.  Something’s wrong.” Yet he (or she) sits there, perched like a statue in the pine tree.

And again I think of my twin.  Who wasn’t able to get up that last morning.  Who left before I could say good-bye.

Her chair is empty now, much as the top of the trees are. Vacant of the one that couldn’t fly away.  Only she did.  She did fly away.

And now she’s soaring.


Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear


Objects In Mirror (c) Kyla Allen 2015

Well, last week was the 2nd birthday I walked this earth without my twin. So hard to comprehend.

But my husband and youngest daughter took great pains to fill Thursday and Friday with great joy.  I have lived in Arizona for nearly 30 years and had never visited the place called “Bearizona” near Flagstaff Arizona (actually in Williams.)

It is a wild animal park, where many wild creatures roam and you have to stay in your car while you take a driving tour.  At parts of the tour we were required to roll our windows closed all the way and lock our doors, as we drove through separated areas of bears and wolves.  Was oh so cool and I know my twin would have adored it.  I took SO many photos for reference for my art. And of course my favorite was the wolves.  Alaskan Tundra Wolves and another breed that slipped my mind at this moment. They were simply beautiful.  I couldn’t get turned around enough to take a good shot of this fellow so I aimed at the mirror and it worked.

So Many of Kishma’s friends and loved ones wished me happy birthday in her memory.  Wow.  Hard to think about even now.  So my mind just kind of leap frogs ahead, as it avoids the issue, and thinks of wolves and artwork and how I need to buckle down and do some.

I love and miss you wombmate.

Eighteen Months.


mask jpg

Eighteen Months.

For a child, it is an eternity.  For an adult, a mere year and a half.  And for an aged senior, it is the passing of a few holidays

For me…it seems a decade has passed.  Has it really only been a year and a half?  Has it really only been a few holidays?  Has it really only been 18 months?

Since my sweet twin passed away?

Getting out of bed today was a challenge.  Staying asleep. Head buried and hidden from the world is so much easier.  If I’m asleep I’m not sad.

(But you’re not happy either.)

I don’t feel the emptiness.

(And you don’t feel the joy.)

I can hide from the world.

(But you’ll miss what is happening!)

I won’t cry.

(And you won’t love.)

~ ~ ~

So here I am. Awake. Alert. And feeling every second of every minute of every hour tick by.

Today is a hard day. A challenge day.  A day when the elephant of grief comes to visit and sit on my chest and I try to remember how to breath, and move through my day. To continue to be.

I continue because of my beloved. And our child. And our children. And our dogs. And our cat.

I hold on to every reason to continue on at times like these.

Fortunately, the hard days are fewer and farther between.  The pain does not lessen as many said it would.

It hasn’t gone away as some said it wouldn’t.

It is a constant.

But, as those who know said, you get used to it.

It is a state of being.

A Daughter’s Dream


Well, it’s been quite a while. Three months.  Not because there is nothing to write.  But I’m tired.  However, one of my daughters called me a couple days ago with a dream she had, and I just have to get it down.  It was sweet, and painful and needed.  I may embellish because I don’t remember it exactly word for word .


A sky full of starsMy daughter discovered she could go back in time.  And the one thing she wanted to do was to make sure I went to California, to see my twin sister before she passed away. She didn’t want to walk with special people, see the dinosaurs or meet Jesus.  She wanted to help me.

She “zapped” herself back, to be with me before Kishma passed away and tried to convince me to fly out to see Kishma.  “Mom, you really need to go see her.”

“Honey, she told me not to come. That they were getting a handle on things.”

“I know but you need to go see her.”

“She doesn’t want me to come right now honey. I asked and she said no. She said she’s okay.”

“I know, but she’s not!  You need to go!’

She realized after a short time that this wasn’t going to work.  So my daughter zapped herself over to Kishma and told her she needed to call me to come out.  With the same response.  Heather was adamant that my sister call, but she didn’t.  And it happened all over again.  In the worst sense of “Groundhog Day.” Heather relived this day over and over, trying everything she could think of to get me to see Kishma before she left.  She never tried to stop the inevitable.  She somehow knew better than that.  But she knew if she could just delay things I might have that last moment to hold Kishma’shand, and caress her hair, and say good bye.

She tried to get me to go to California.  She tried to get Kishma to call me.  She tried to make it so Kishma did not climb on the bed that night, which is when they think the tear occurred.  She tried to get Kishma to call an ambulance before she even climed into bed so she could be AT the ER when it happened.  But Kishma “felt fine.”

Over and over again it happened.  Heather’s heart was breaking each time she had to watch my heartache repeat itself.  The anquish and the sorrow and the tears.

Finally, she was sitting on Kishma’s bed, unseen, invisible, trying desperately to think of a way to change this small thread in the fabric of time.  Her mind raced when suddenly… Kishma stopped.  The world stopped. The stars stopped moving.  And existence took a deep breath.   Kishma turned and looked directly at the invisible Heather.

“Heather.  You have to stop this.  You can’t change things.  You have to let me go.”

Heathers eyes filled with tears as she cried, “No,  I can’t.  Mom needs to see you!  No, no, no.”

Kishma put her hand up to Heather’s face and gently said, “Yes.  You have to let me go.  I need to go.  You need to stop trying.  You must.  Things are as they should be.  You – have – to – let – me – go.”

And the earth began to spin once more.  The stars twirled in the galaxy.  And Heather, with tears streaming down her cheeks, took a breath.

And woke up.


I love you daughter.  And I will always miss her and regret.  And it takes all my effort to be here.  And now.  And live.  Until we see her again.

A waking dream


black-unicorn-wallpaper-10Kishma…I had a waking dream that you were visiting Tan.  He is struggling so and lost without you.  You literally lighted down in your studio and sat beside him.  You didn’t sit at your desk because it is being used by Ben now, which tickled you.  You were bright and smiling and without pain. Thinner but still voluptuous. Still my sis.

And you sat beside Tan, but he didn’t see you.  He was leaned over, chin on one hand, other hand on a mouse, consumed by whatever was playing on the computer screen.  His face was completely void emotion.  Not something you were used to.

You bobbed around him on one side.  Then the other.  Not as if to say…”look at me,” but more to look at him and see him.  Then you sat cross legged on a chair next to him and put your left hand on his hand which was on the mouse.

He stopped what he was doing and looked down at the mouse.  He couldn’t see you.  He knew something was different.  He sat and stared at his hand for a long while.  His face was so serious compared to your fae’ face, just happy to be.  You were weightless and your perfume gently filled the room.

Ed stopped drawing for a moment.  He’d been sick, but he still felt you.  He took a deep breath and smiled as he exhaled, and gently ran his finger along the photo of you he had on his computer.  Then he went right back to working on his on-line graphics, chin up as he moved closer to the monitor to see.

Tan continued to sit.  He slowly pulled his hand off the mouse and put it in his lap as sat up straight in his chair.

You never spoke, but there was this faery laugh feeling in my chest as I watched.  It was like a silent movie, except for the perfume.  Not heavy like lilacs or gardenia.  Light…almost like orange blossoms.

As I watched, Tashta materialized beside you (your sweet anthropomorphic zebra)…and a black unicorn beside Tan.  I don’t know his name.

A creature like Eon…but not, appeared near Ed. More serpentine than equine. He briefly looked over at Tashta and Tan, flicked up an amused eyebrow, then turned back to the screen Ed was looking at.  He had his hand on Ed’s shoulder and his long neck extended almost over Ed’s head to take a closer look at the screen.  He had chin hairs or something that tickled Ed, who put his hand up and brushed along the top of his head, moving the hair back.

Tashta stood and looked at the Unicorn.  He stood with his chin tucked down, a slight frown furrowing his brow and his hands buried in the pockets of his dark “trench?” coat.  Tashta tilted her head and pranced up to him.  She put her nose and muzzle beneath his, tilting her head up, pushing his muzzle up with her own and her dancing eyes met his.  His eyes were grey and clouded and he didn’t want to see. He turned his head to one side and closed his eyes.  Tashta put out a poopy lip, but only briefly.  A smile again lighted on her face and she trotted to the side he’d turned his head to and this time pushed her nose against his, wrinkling the fur muzzle in a silly fashion and making a silly face as she opened her eyes wide at him and smiled.  A smile formed at the corners of his mouth and eyes and he took a deep breath and lifted his nose. And smiled at her.

Tan took a deep breath at the same time.  Deeper than any he had taken in a long time.  He closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly shut.

The unicorn lifted his arms and Tashta snuggled into his embrace. He rested his cheek against her hair, then lifted his chin, and put it on top of her head.  She was so small compared to him.  She had this huge grin on her face as she lifted her eyes to meet his.  He nodded his head and smiled, and they all slowly disappeared.

You sat still throughout, your smiling eyes never left Tan.  He sat still, with his head tilted slightly back. When he opened his eyes again, the room appeared sharper and in focus.  The colors were more vivid and lines crisper.  He wasn’t sure what had happened.  He literally shook himself, tilted his head back and forth to stretch out his neck then stood up from his chair.  You continued to smile at him as your form dissolved from my view.  The only words spoken then came from Tan as he stood up, a man seeing for the first time in a long time, “I think I’m going to make something to eat.”

I haven’t done a waking dream in a long time sis.  Hope this means something to your beloveds. I miss you.