Backwards and Forwards

“Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all. Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again.”

-Stephen King, The Green Mile

In my email inbox, I’ve carefully organized and saved just about every email from anyone who was important to me. When things were rough, or I’d be stressed out, I would look back at the great things we did, the funny things we said and how smart and interesting we were that one time.

I used to take comfort in looking back.

I haven’t looked back in awhile.

There is a line the was drawn on July 17 at 2:10 p.m. that clearly deliniates “before” and “after.”

I’m living in the after. And that before life, whatever that was…doesn’t even feel real any more.

Lately, I’ve had the strangest feeling that I’m rebuilding who I am. What my relationship is, what I like, what I love, and what I hate.

Its been a pleasant surprise to return to things that I’d forgotten about and discover they still give me joy.

There have been other things that I loved, and loved deeply, that no longer make me feel in the same, strong, passionate, way.

I wish I could say I’ve become fiercer or braver. I wish I could say the person I’m evolving into possess those traits.

Instead…I think she’s more careful. Despite my writing all my thoughts here, she’s also more private. Not that I don’t want to share…but I feel like when I do its false to speak the words out loud. These feelings are inside me, and if I can’t give them a name, they’re not ready to be outside yet.

When something joyful has happened, I’ve thrown myself, full force, into that joy. Whether its mine or someone else’s good news. I want to taste that sunshine drop of impossible sweetness.

But oh how terrible it has been not to trust it.

Its like being told being excited for a gift and opening it, only to find, the person who bought it for you didn’t know you at all. And it hurts all the more because you trusted them to understand and what they gave you clearly shows that they didn’t.

It hurts, because you love them and you don’t want to hurt them, but it also hurts because the gift you’ve opened was not only not what you wanted…but it makes you feel like they didn’t care enough to figure you out. It makes you feel small and unimportant.

So now, I’m trying to figure out exactly how it is I want to bring the joy back and what gives me joy. There is still a looming stressor of completeing our house sale, and trying to budget. So I can’t quite see myself out of the woods, but its getting lighter.

But it has been almost 2 years of constant sorrow and stress. I think of what a balm it will be to not wake up and having a death looming over my family. How glorious it will be to not be selling a house and scheduling repairs and running back and forth.

I won’t know what to do.

I guess I’ll figure it out…



Day 19 & 20: We’ve Gathered Together Today

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

I used to work in a cemetery.  I was the receptionist/admin and I dealt with all kinds of grief every day.  I handled the grief of those who had recently lost a loved one and came in to schedule the burial, I directed mothers who had lost a child to the graves they couldn’t remember because of heavy, Midwestern, snow…and I saw countless husbands and wives, now widowed, come in with flowers on birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays.

There was one gentleman in particular, who’d come in to pre-plan, with his wife.  They were older, though not old, she had lovely, short, silver hair…he looked fairly spry and strong.  They came in to plan for the future.

About a month later, her cancer came back.

At this time, I’d just gotten engaged to my husband.  And we were awash in love and all the feeling one has while planning a wedding.  I had a wedding to plan.  This gentleman would come in and he’d ask about the plans…he told me to keep a journal because “It goes by so fast and you’ll want to remember it all…you’ll want to remember it when you need it.”

She died.

He still came in, frequently, no longer asked about the wedding, but I would always ask how he was doing.  You get a lot of people who, in their grief, are unpleasant…difficult.  He was always polite, always kind.

One day, it must have been a hard day.  I asked him how he was doing…and he didn’t answer for a few moments…then he looked me in the eye and said “You know something?” and I looked at him and he said “Remember.  Every love story ends the same way.”

And he walked out of the office.

My uncle died in May.  He’d had cancer, brain cancer.  He survived about 16 months.  I still remember the phone call from my mom telling me that he’d had a seizure…that he’d collapsed…that it didn’t look good…15 months later…”You have to leave work…they think” and she paused, gasping for air and composure, “They think this is it.”

His daughter was married in August.  She walked down the aisle flanked by the same men who, 3 months earlier, had carried his casket down the same, church aisle.

I went to a friend’s wedding this weekend.

She walked down the aisle alone.

Her father had died 6 years ago.

Her sister, my best friend, collapsed onto my shoulder afterwards saying  “I want him, daddy, to be here so badly…and no one understands…no one knows how hard it was for me to be up there…no one knows, C,  no one knows…” and she cried into my shoulder and I told her “You were so good, sweetie, you were so good.  You were so strong and brave and wonderful” and I said all the right things.

And I grabbed a tissue, running outside into the crisp night air to calm myself.

It took awhile.  I have 28 bug bites to prove it.

Today is my wedding anniversary.  And there are people who should have been there.  And were not.

Weddings are joyful occasions.  They’re there to bring you together with the people to love, to celebrate people who will, in the translation from an old german set of vows, be together til “Death first parts us.”

Until Death first parts us.

Every love story ends the same way.  And you make the choice that, in the end, you want to spend a time with someone that will be finite.  That time you will be with your spouse will come to an end.  There is no choice.  You have left your heart open and said “I know how this story ends.”

And up at the alter, in your beautiful white dress, across from your dashing husband, with freshly trimmed hair and a sharp, pressed suit, will say “I will love you, til death first parts us.”

But you won’t stop there.  You will love beyond that first parting.  You will love them every second, every minute, every painful hour beyond that first parting.  You will love until you can’t breathe for grief of losing them.  You will love even though you don’t want to get up in the morning.  You will love, though all is lost.  You will love, looking at their old suits, and putting them in the bag for the thrift store.  You will love them as you hold their old sweaters close to you in the night, praying for one more moment with their scent, as though their ghost was there.

You will carry that grief with you through the grocery store, up and down the stairs of your home.

And you signed up for it.  You said that you would love them.  And you will love them forever because “you cannot change your heart.  When you love someone, you love them.”

Every love story ends the same way.

Love for your friend, your spouse, your parent, your pets, your everything.  Every love store ends the same way.

Because it ends.

Someone will die.  And you will have to make plans.  But you can’t help loving any more than you can help breathing.  Because if you close yourself, think of what you’ll miss.

But I watched so much pain this weekend.  In the midst of such joy…there was such terrible pain.

And I can’t tell you whether we love because of it or we love in spite of it.  But my friends, still we love.

And on my anniversary, without any words of the challenge I had set before myself, I will leave you with the song I had sung for our wedding.  Where my husband stood before me, having lost both his parents.  Where I stood, missing friends who should have been there to celebrate.  Knowing that, in my joy, in the incandescent, bright, painful joy that is a bride before her groom…every love story ends the same way.

Its what you do before the end that matters.

Set me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm;
For love is as strong as death,
Many waters cannot quench love,
Nor can the floods drown it.
Set me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm;
For love is as strong as death.

-Rene Clausen, inspiried by Song of Solomon


Day 18: What bwings us togwether this weekend

Wove, twue wove.

-The Princess Bride

This weekend I will be attending the wedding of the younger sister of one of my high school besties.  This is also the weekend of my second wedding anniversary.

Really, this weekend…things are going to be alright.  I’m focusing on celebrating this joyful occasion and remembering my own.  Oh yeah…this might have helped a little:



I was NOT expecting something like this.  I’d gotten him a life counter ring for playing nerd games…this is a lovely sapphire and tiny diamond necklace.  I’m feeling pretty lucky and happy and thankful and surprised right now.  He said “I know shiny things cheer you up, I figured this would help.”

Oh honey, you are right.

I’m going to try really hard to update tomorrow night and Saturday but since I’ll be out of town, I may just have to do a big post Sunday night.  We’ll see.  Gonna get my 30 minutes and more of working out dancing the night away!

Physical Health:

Hours of Sleep: 7.5 hours.

Exercise: Had another house showing today (hooray!) so I mowed the lawn and cleaned up outside for awhile…lifting that lawnmower is hard work!

Breakfast: apple, babybel mini cheese, almonds


Cleaning or Packing?: House showing today, spot cleaned when I got home in addition to lawn mowing…should have cleaned out my car.  Ran out of time.  So I know what I’m doing after work tomorrow!

Made my bed?:  Bed made beautifully for the house showing.

Read 1 book a week: Four Letter Word by Joshua Knelman & Rosalind Porter.  Ahhh, love.


“Beauty: “You called me beautiful last night.”
Beast: “You do not believe me then?”
Beauty: “Well – no. Any number of mirrors have told me otherwise.”
Beast: “You will find no mirrors here, for I cannot bear them: nor any quiet water in ponds. And since I am the only one who sees you, why are you not then beautiful?”
— Robin McKinley Beauty 

No one’s sweetheart is ugly.

– Old Saying

I am loved.  And that makes me beautiful.  It doesn’t take necklaces.  It doesn’t take anything else.  Love makes you beautiful, inside and out.