Today, I received an email from Shannon. My best friend during the high school years. She announces that at the age of 43, she is now expecting her 5th child.
Communication with the other is a blink here, a speck of dust there. It is not uncommon for a significant life event to be shared via email.
I paused in reading and let the flood of memory soothe over. It took but a second, but years shared with this friend took hold of me and left me yearning for a bit of yesteryear.
10 years ago, i found myself in a writing class in downtown Minneapolis. Spontaneous writing moments were quick and an exercise in fluidity of thought. Tonight, while looking for an entirely different document - one that is relevant to my present day, I found an old writing assignment that I wrote in class. We were to reflect on a life moment that brought significance to the present. At the time, I had 3 babies at home and knowing they would one day grow up and explore their own adventurous exploits, I wrote one of mine.
….
----
The Mission Impossible theme resonates loudly in my head. You know what I'm talking about, the one with the opening montage when the wick is lit and swiftly moves across the screen....The drum sound that mimics the frantic beat of a heart?
Delicate footwork finds us on the roof of my car. Black on black outfits set the tone for the objective. Wrench in hand, hammer in pocket; we approach the goal in silence.
Shannon and I soon get accustomed to jumping off the car and laying down flat when headlights come within line of vision. But, determination reigns supreme. Back on roof.
“Okay, I’ve assessed the situation and I think we can get it this time.” And sounding like any professional surgeon on the job, “Nurse, vise grip.”
“Police car. Jump!” Shannon shouts. And that is exactly what we do. We land on the wet grass and huddle close by the side of the passenger door. The car passes, we compose ourselves and we proceed.
Remember, we are on a mission and there is a job to be done. We will not rest easily with defeat. We have trained long and hard for this to fall through the cracks....well, that's a lie. But it sounds impressive and important.
Back on hood, over windshield, eventually on roof. A horn honks, a dog barks, a porch light flashes on – then off. Shannon’s demands of quickening the pace are muffled by the looming thunder. We look around cautiously. During that midnight hour, all is quiet except for the hissing of spinning wheels on wet pavement. Our breaths are quick and fast. Deep breath in and out. Mission accomplished!
The open trunk of my car dictates the use of side streets. We press our lips to the aluminum rims of the coca-cola cans. Our sweaty palms greet each other in a celebratory high five. We discuss where in her room the green and white Shannon Boulevard sign we just unhinged from the neighborhood street will find it’s refuge; above the trendy Mickey Mouse push button phone or next to the Jake Ryan, Sixteen Candles heartthrob movie poster.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
hmmm
Wondering if i am in need of changing my blog title. These experiential days are not necessarily about the life of an Elocutionist. In 5 months, my life has been lifted. God took my by the scruff of my neck and placed me in a role that I can not deny nor ever fathomed. It is emotionally exhaustive, drains me daily, leaves me without fuel to continue at times - but allows me to endure in rhythmic progress. I am able to take care of my family, their activities, and even make a meal from time to time.
It has been 5 months since the passing of David. I feel I am taking on the role of different people - absent people that are no longer in her world. people who actively with complete conscious decided that it was just too hard to be a friend. But I want to be there. She is moving forward, as hard as it is, but she is moving forward.
Am i finding my own balance? not quite yet. I know I will.
Do i want to be here? i *do* want to. more importantly, I am being called to be there.
Has it changed me? More than I thought it would.
Not sure this is appropriate for a blog post - but posting anyway
Written tonight
5 months (August 16, 2011)
It’s been 5 months and you wonder, who really are you without David. Who *are* you? And do you really matter? If it wasn’t for the kids, would you feel that your life was completed?
You relive March 16 over and over again. Trying to fit it all together and answer those what ifs that keep you awake at night. Your life is riddled with questions and rarely do you find peace in the answers.
You are finding that the ebb and flow of grief has a pattern…sometime predictable, but often it storms in out of nowhere, arriving without warning; knocking you off your temporary standing that brought relative comfort.
It has been 5 months and you are realizing that the months can continue to clock on through, and it really doesn’t matter, does it? The loss of David has not eased since that evening. Coping has changed and shifted, but not the feelings. They never will.
You heard rumors and people talking and telling you that with time, things will get easier. You never put hope in this, but there was a potential that was alluring ,at least. But, in 5 months, things have not gotten easier.
You are a stranger in a crowded room. It's Hi how are you and talk, talk, talk but you’re not there. You want to leave because you feel so alone. You used to look for understanding. You used to look for a ‘place’ that didn’t drown you or pull you under. Now, you have given up on expectations.
It’s been 5 months. What is that supposed to look like? Funny, it doesn’t feel much different than last month or the month before that
Who will you be in month 6 or in month 7? Who will you be without David. A reinventing is needed; but this is baffling to think about. Why?
You have a desire to live – if not for you then for your children, but life continues in a fog. You are impressed that you actually get your pants on with the zipper in the front! This is 5 months in. Is any of this going to get better? Your friend, Katie, screams it out as loud as she can, “IS ANY OF THIS GOING TO GET BETTER?”
153 Days tomorrow (according to my calculations)
How often do you even replay March 15th in your mind? Did you have time with your David that evening?
5 months and you have seen the smallness and the pettiness of some people that you never even gave a second thought about. Grief has changed you. Life without David has changed you and you are forcing yourself to live, to face, to continue. One breath, one step, one more prayer.
How can people tell you to look ahead and plan ahead when the outlook is desolate, lonely, dark and unwelcoming. Why would people say those things?
You stumble. How are you to walk and continue when the person who supported you in those steps is now no longer?
5 months:
Can you make it through? YES
WILL you make it through? YES
Will you become stronger? YES
Will you begin to discover yourself in all this? YES
Will you see your friend, Katie, more frequently? YES!
Will you substitute your grief with online late night shopping? Oh, Lord help us if you do!
Will you find the necessary TIME for JOY to spend some time alone? (not in your room) YES!
Will your appetite return? YES
Will your new love for soy mochas wane? NO (I had to put in a no, somewhere…can’t be all color and sparkle)
Will you continue to find daily strength in scripture? YES
Will you be able to conquer this? I HOPE SO….
Love forever
Katie
It has been 5 months since the passing of David. I feel I am taking on the role of different people - absent people that are no longer in her world. people who actively with complete conscious decided that it was just too hard to be a friend. But I want to be there. She is moving forward, as hard as it is, but she is moving forward.
Am i finding my own balance? not quite yet. I know I will.
Do i want to be here? i *do* want to. more importantly, I am being called to be there.
Has it changed me? More than I thought it would.
Not sure this is appropriate for a blog post - but posting anyway
Written tonight
5 months (August 16, 2011)
It’s been 5 months and you wonder, who really are you without David. Who *are* you? And do you really matter? If it wasn’t for the kids, would you feel that your life was completed?
You relive March 16 over and over again. Trying to fit it all together and answer those what ifs that keep you awake at night. Your life is riddled with questions and rarely do you find peace in the answers.
You are finding that the ebb and flow of grief has a pattern…sometime predictable, but often it storms in out of nowhere, arriving without warning; knocking you off your temporary standing that brought relative comfort.
It has been 5 months and you are realizing that the months can continue to clock on through, and it really doesn’t matter, does it? The loss of David has not eased since that evening. Coping has changed and shifted, but not the feelings. They never will.
You heard rumors and people talking and telling you that with time, things will get easier. You never put hope in this, but there was a potential that was alluring ,at least. But, in 5 months, things have not gotten easier.
You are a stranger in a crowded room. It's Hi how are you and talk, talk, talk but you’re not there. You want to leave because you feel so alone. You used to look for understanding. You used to look for a ‘place’ that didn’t drown you or pull you under. Now, you have given up on expectations.
It’s been 5 months. What is that supposed to look like? Funny, it doesn’t feel much different than last month or the month before that
Who will you be in month 6 or in month 7? Who will you be without David. A reinventing is needed; but this is baffling to think about. Why?
You have a desire to live – if not for you then for your children, but life continues in a fog. You are impressed that you actually get your pants on with the zipper in the front! This is 5 months in. Is any of this going to get better? Your friend, Katie, screams it out as loud as she can, “IS ANY OF THIS GOING TO GET BETTER?”
153 Days tomorrow (according to my calculations)
How often do you even replay March 15th in your mind? Did you have time with your David that evening?
5 months and you have seen the smallness and the pettiness of some people that you never even gave a second thought about. Grief has changed you. Life without David has changed you and you are forcing yourself to live, to face, to continue. One breath, one step, one more prayer.
How can people tell you to look ahead and plan ahead when the outlook is desolate, lonely, dark and unwelcoming. Why would people say those things?
You stumble. How are you to walk and continue when the person who supported you in those steps is now no longer?
5 months:
Can you make it through? YES
WILL you make it through? YES
Will you become stronger? YES
Will you begin to discover yourself in all this? YES
Will you see your friend, Katie, more frequently? YES!
Will you substitute your grief with online late night shopping? Oh, Lord help us if you do!
Will you find the necessary TIME for JOY to spend some time alone? (not in your room) YES!
Will your appetite return? YES
Will your new love for soy mochas wane? NO (I had to put in a no, somewhere…can’t be all color and sparkle)
Will you continue to find daily strength in scripture? YES
Will you be able to conquer this? I HOPE SO….
Love forever
Katie
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