Note Regarding Order of Entries

The posts in the pages that follow are in this order:

May 2012: CAS Graduation—Kyle Harty Strang Spirit of CAS Award
May 2011: CAS Graduation—Kyle's loyal and loving CAS-mates move up.
March 2011: Two incredible articles that appeared in local newspapers
November: Lyrics of a beautiful song written for Kyle by Sarah Crews
July: Things shared on and around the 17th anniversary of Kyle's birth
June: Snippets of Facebook interchanges, end of school year pieces, and other things written to Kyle
May: CAS Memorial and misc. contributions received in May (in the order the comments were made)
April: Kyle's funeral and misc. contributions received in April (in the order the comments were made)
March 2010: Before Kyle's funeral and information about where to make donations in Kyle's memory

Because postings do not appear in the order they were posted, you will have to check the listing in the Blog Archive below to see whether there are posts you have not read, and then click on those posts.

If you made comments at one of the memorial events and/or if you have words about Kyle that you would like to post, send to: jbarber@berkeley.edu

Followers

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Memories with Kyle by Isa

When I was young
the days just happened
and the nights just came
and the light filtered dust
through sunbeams reign
from a crack in the window
where morning doves coos
floated on morning’s calm alarm
carried wafts of world through window glow
peeking in
from out
I wake early
his arm outstretched as my pillow
and warm under blankets
toppled by big dog paka between
everyone whistled in breaths deep and low
and his sheen curly hair
folded in tufts
face nuzzled
squishing nose
and our freezy toes
touching below sheets
huddled feet
one pair
each, half sticking out for air
and him waking up
looking and giggling
we would rush to jump on big bed
“GOOD MORNING!”

But four days ago I lost my black veil
and all the better for remembering …

When I was young
we played in the sun
ran around fanning sprinklers
in grassy yards
with big water guns
naked, and drying in dabs of rays
on big orange tiles
spread out against
grand smooth slates
sucking on popsicles
home-made, with apple juice
and later wait
listen for sounds of that taste
till we
chase down the street
at our puttering pace
down the block
a little race
to the ice cream truck, slow
we stalk
when parent exits house
waving bux
after us
just two or three kids counting our luck
we all got:
crunches, or push-pops, or sailor moon sticks
drips with licks
and always swallowed the bubble gum from the melted
sailor-head-dress
mixed in knots down our throats
as we laughed and knowed
we should have swallowed less
and made a mess
and didn’t detest
when our ready bodies
plopped! in hot tub
heads covered with face-cloths
being cleaned and rubbed
splashing each other

But four days ago I lost my black veil
and all the better for remembering …

When I was young
we hit balls off of tees
we whittled sticks
and stood on the porch throwing rocks at trees
drew X’s on a log
and hit targets when we peed
watched Star Wars daily,
rolling and pushing over spots,
sliding around on the leather couch
flashed shadows onto glowing screens, in the dark
climbed to high places and jumped into sand
at the park
practiced power ranger fighting combat
and trapped me as damsel under:
over-turned couch-cage
bat man and robin act
played cowboys and indians with toy soldiers
packed, while hiding in the office
we’d pretend that we’re in showbiz
always dressing up
wearing hats
tutus, vests, sacks, boas, sequins, glamorous
we tortured cats
and snuck through cracks in fences
always plotting like villains, heroes and spies
exploring neighbors’ residences
hiding behind bushes and in trenches
taking treasures
special rocks, dirty toys, bent
our trinkets in jars, safe,
piggy banks, beanie babies, knives and collectors cards
in our rooms, on a shelf, in categories,
tucked in bed, lookin at ‘em
fall asleep, already dreaming
about our stories
never any worries

But four days ago I lost my black veil
and all the better for remembering

that when I was young
I was never alone
and my brother, I’m never forgetting


Isa Donnelly DeFusco
                                   April 3, 2010

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