I’m ready to turn the corner, to leave this chapter of our lives in the soft dust, and only re-visit it when I’m feeling really strong. I’m ready for some sunlight on my path and some gentle curves to our road. I’m ready to walk in the spring clover and sing a John Denver or Jerry Garcia song and feel giddy and silly again. I’m ready to play with my children and hold my husbands hand without peering from behind a veil of pain and nausea. I’m ready for some ease and simple, quiet… exhaling.
My grandpa’s funeral was this morning, at 9 a.m. in Arlington National Cemetery. My whole family was there, and from what they tell me, the service was incredibly moving and deeply symbolic. They took some photos for me, and I’m looking forward to seeing them. The funeral was full-military honors- with a caison, 21 gun salute, a military band, the honor guard and the ceremonial division who bear the casket and perform the flag ceremony. Taps was played. I cannot imagine not being shaken deeply by the entire ceremony and the incredible honor bestowed upon this man who was my grandpa. I so very much wish I could have been there.
This afternoon my husband’s father died. It is not my pain to share, so I will just keep it to that simple statement. My husband has a healthy and spiritual view on death, however, this has still been a very painful day for him, and we have a few long and emotional days coming up. I wish I could take some of the crushing weight from his shoulders- He is the head of our family, supporting an ill and very pregnant wife who cannot even drive, awaiting the birth of his 3rd child any day, recently begun a new position at work, and dealing with the death of a parent. I feel so helpless to help this man who means the world to me.
Yesterday, a friend said if she didn’t know me, she wouldn’t believe my life. I wish sometimes I were making this stuff up- but I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be believable. Occasionally, I think after this baby comes and life does soften up a little, you all won’t recognize me anymore. It’s kind of like watching a train wreck- “What else awful is happening today?” You just can’t look away… Someone else told me that I am providing service to others, in that I am able to show them how good their lives are. While I can’t figure out how to make that into sunshine, I think I appreciate the oddness of the compliment…
On my refridgerator, I have a quote I’ve had for years. It’s one of my very favorite, by Zora Neale Hurston, and it says: “There are years that ask questions, and there are years answer”. When I was younger, that seemed so profound to me, and so simple. Now, I just wonder where we are.