Thirteen years ago, on March 11, a beautiful little boy was born. He did not cry. He did not wiggle in his mama's arms. He did not breathe. But still, he changed the world.
That little boy lit a spark inside of his mother during the nine months he spent nestled inside of her, and that spark was not extinguished when he died. That spark grew into a full fledged fire of motherly love and devotion and creativity and life and beauty and sadness and empathy and generosity and strength and light.
Kara has done so much since Dakota's death and birth (in that terrible, twisted order) and has been an inspiration to so many. Her artwork, poetry, books and workshops are such gifts to our community. She is the one who enlightened me to the true origins of Mother's Day and her idea of using art to "look askew and try to get a handle on our experience when looking straight on is too much" really hits home for me. Her book of poetry, Flash of Life, is one of the books that I have returned to time and time again in the five years since my Madeline's death and it was an incredible honor for me when Kara agreed to write the foreword for my own book. Though I hate the sadness we have in common and I wish we had met under different circumstances, I am so grateful to know her, and to know Kota through her.
If you haven't had a chance to check out all the amazing things Kara LC Jones and her husband, Hawk Jones, have created as they continue to parent Dakota, please take a few minutes to check out some of their work at www.motherhenna.com.
And happy thirteenth birthday, Kota.
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