be here. (two)

(you must) remember

take a breath

then another

then another

remember

in this moment

you

are

enough

a gift (found inside the missing and wishing)

backyard dogwood, south carolina . spring, 2009

for the first year, all i wanted was one more day, hour, breath, second. i just wanted to pick up the phone and hear her voice say, "hello" in that funny, "i'm so glad it's you" sort of way. as my brain tried to train itself to realize that i would never see her, hear her again, my cracked-open heart tried to remember to keep working.

this is a piece of what my first experience of the path of grief felt like.
the wishing. the missing.

*****

this march was the first time after her death and the last time that i would visit the home away from home that was my grandparents' home. trying to soak up everything while standing on another branch of the path of grief was difficult. i took a lot of photos, but i wish i would have taken more. i wish i would have written while sitting on the backporch. but when a family gathers for a funeral, there isn't much time to take it all in. and then, in the weeks that followed, the "settling of the estate" began. and as a grandchild, i did not have a role. which i understood intellectually...yet, this was my home away from home...a home filled with unconditional love that i had experienced...even if this might not have been the experience of everyone.

my mother would call and we would talk about "the list" of "stuff" and what we might want.

and as i would look at this list of "stuff," the feeling began again. i want one more minute. i just want to tell her all that i have learned. i want her to know this me, this me that grief has birthed. i want to ask her so many questions. i don't care about any of the stuff, i just want her. i just want her.

during this time, my mind kept turning around this phrase: all that they were became a list in a word document with a total at the end. all that they were. all that they were.

the missing became the drum of my heart yet again.

*****

weeks later, the boxes arrived at my mother's house. a lot of boxes. the journey she has been on to go through them...the journey that is not always about missing in the same way my journey is. a child's grief, so very different from a grandchild's or a friend's.

a few weeks ago, she sent two boxes full of some of the things from that house. being sick for several weeks, and some other things that have made life a bit fuller, made for the realization that i didn't quite have the energy to open the boxes. i didn't want to sift through the feelings again, and i didn't want to uncover new ones. i just walked around the boxes and stacked things on top of them.

*****

alone in the quiet saturday night, i found myself noticing those two white boxes and wondering. as i lifted out sewing supplies, linens, odds and ends, i began wishing i could ask her about the seven days-of-the-week embroidered towels and the odd beginnings to a pillow and the red "happy time" harmonica. 

the wishing. the missing.

in the second box, under a few other things, there was layer upon layer of bubble wrap around a box. as i began to unwrap it, the quiet mingled with the scent of her.

the jewelry box that had sat on her dresser for decades. the jewelry box that had sat there as she put on her makeup, sprayed her perfume, decided which pair of clip-on earrings to wear.

the jewelry box soaked up that perfume and makeup and pieces of a life; it soaked up the scents of that life, her life, and they settled in. as i opened that box, the scent swirled around me and i closed my eyes to remember.

the little girl visiting her favorite people and sleeping in that room. supposed to be napping, she peeks inside that box, lifts the lid of a compact, opens the bottle of perfume and breathes in deeply. the little girl sits on the stool in front of the dresser and looks in the mirror wondering what it might be like to be old enough to wear this perfume and use the pencils and brushes. the little girl who feels so at home in this room, who feels so loved in this room. the little girl who is the woman who remembers this love. this woman who takes a breath and deeply misses.

the jewelry box that was on a list that became part of a decision. the jewelry box that was wrapped up and put into a box and then another box now sits inside this home on another coast, part of another life. the jewelry box that became another step on the path as it became the gift of one more minute, one more second, one more breath.

the gift of one more breath.

(thank you)

five (really) good things . on this day

1. a waffle + french fries for lunch.

2. spending the afternoon painting with kelly rae. i. love. painting. thank you my friend for reminding me of how much i do love to play in this medium.

3. because the mountain is playing their music library a-z i was able to sing my heart out to jack and diane today. that made this indiana girl all kinds of happy. (not to mention that today is the first day in weeks that my singing voice has been more song and less warble.)

4. watching the shades of blue sky change while driving home this evening. the horizon dotted with thousands of stretching upward evergreens as light blue changed to indigo changed to midnight and all the shades in between. i love living here.

5. feeling the rhythm of millie's breathing as she sleeps against me here on the couch. she is such a dear companion.

*****

and you...

what are your five really good things?
name them.
i dare you.

senses. unearth.

i hear...

your beautiful, full, i love life laughter
the waves crash in the background as we sit in the quiet and breathe
you say, "i am?" when someone tells you that yes, you are brave
you whisper your truth
you teach what you know to be true with gentle firmness

i smell...

the sea
the tea lights as they hold the space for each of us
squash soup, autumn, cider
the moment when the rain stopped
rose petals as they dance together

i feel...

the space around my heart with each breath
the sand, firm beneath my feet
your hand upon my head just to check
paint beneath my fingers as the giggle winds its way around my throat
the paper beneath my hand as i write pieces of my truth

i taste...

mug after mug of tea
the salt winding its way from the sea
oreos + milk
oranges, freshly sliced

i see...

your beautiful face smiling through tears
you hold one another
you, yes you, paint (yes. you. did.)
you listen as truth and light is shared between you
you heal (and let go a little bit more)

i know...

you are open
you are brave
you showed up even though you were afraid
you are finding your way
you are beauty, truth, love

 

i am home.

i am blessed.

i am honoring.

i am dancing inside joy.

i am rooted in truth.

i am so very thankful.

i am sitting in quiet.

i am trusting.

i am resting inside love.

(thank you)

more very soon...

postcard from manzanita

(front)

(back)

you can live your dream into being.

this i know to be true.

(wish you were here.)

hello

hug point, oregon . september 2009

goodness, i cannot believe it has been so long since i have been to this spot to share some things. life is full. and i think i am in the mood for a list:

1. unearth, a be present retreat, begins in just three days!

2. i currently cannot get enough hot water + fresh lemon juice.

3. i quilted twelve new selma patchwork scarves today.

4. this darling girl arrives tomorrow.

5. i have been sick since coming home from squam (see #2 above).

6. i am learning to let go instead of needing to explain when people make assumptions.

7. my parents really are quite wonderful.

8. this dear friend (and assistant extraordinaire) arrives tuesday.

9. can't forget to buy tea lights.

10. rooting myself in ritual and a sense of daily routine is the way to more nurturing right now.

11. when millie sleeps against me, i just sleep better.

12. i wish our house had an extra 300 square feet. even 100 would be a dream.

13. seeing contributor artwork, poetry, photography for the book...well, this is making me so happy.

14. i am blessed to have the most incredible circle of friends. (i do know this.)

15. being seen, well, that is what it is all about i think.

16. being heard is pretty good too. (thank you)

17. this song is filling up my heart.

18. it is 7:30ish and i am already in bed, on my way to sleep soon (see #5).

19. because of #4 and #8 above all the final touches for #1 will be ready.

20. i cannot wait to breathe in the ocean on tuesday (partly because it is there that i most feel her beside me).

21. love, even (especially) in the moments of stress, is a gift i am deeply understanding.

22. i am so behind on email and that is just how it has to be right now.

23. apollo 13 is one of my favorite movies. (watched it yesterday.)

24. a sneak peek of the march be present retreat is up here!

25. going to (re)read a little of this before drifting off to sleep.

what's going on in your world?

i would really love to know.