Wednesday, May 11, 2011


Jed Wells photo

Hello May, let's make out.

The night before our concert, Chup and I had the midnight task of putting up the paper lanterns that crisscross the parking terrace and hang from lamp post to lamp post. We rounded up a last-second babysitter, my nephew Van who was coaxed out of his home with Doritos, Hostess-packaged bliss and a choice flavor of soda.

When we arrived at the concert site the structure was mostly empty. There, in the heart of downtown, we were surrounded by the dotted lights of midnight-oil offices, shadowy forms of peaked structures and a pale blue gleam sourced by one stalwart lamp post. Below we heard faint music coming from Sammy's Cafe--three stories down. There were a few customers inside, finishing up cupcake shakes and sweet potato fries. The scene was like viewing Hopper's Nighthawks from an aerial view. But as for the body count above, it was just us swinging from the rooftop.

May is the month I fell in love with Christopher Kendrick across the street. We had a chance meeting on my front lawn the afternoon of Mother's Day, five months after our making our acquaintances official. I couldn't stop thinking about him for months. To everyone I knew he was Chris Kendrick, but to me, he was Christopher Kendrick. Or, as Austen's  Emma terms it, My Mr. Christopher. I told him on that sunny afternoon, after cake and celebration for my own mother, I would always call him Christopher.

"That's funny," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because my favorite people always end up calling me Christopher."

May is also the month I became a mother (to Christopher Kendrick's son no less).

May will always smell like love to me. The natural fragrance of an earth warming up, mixed with expectations of the greatest summer and blossoms you never want to die.

It's the very scent I experienced while hanging those lanterns the other night. I looked over at Christopher and sighed,

"I can smell May."

But this time it had a distinctive trace of fireworks--the aroma of burning light, a scented trail of heated explosion.

Or was it just me?

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