Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Dancing with a banged-up heart

Today marks the three-month anniversary of my mom's passing. I suspect the 17th of every month will hold this new significance for me from now on...and with an intensity through this first year.

It's good to know, in the midst of grief, that while mine is certainly unique to me, it is not unique to the human experience. I am grateful that I grieve the loss of my mother, that we loved each other so deeply, that this love is not buried with her ashes, but lives on in my heart and my dreams. I dream about her often, and when I wake up thinking of her, I remember her telling me how she dreamed about her mother, even 30 years after she died.

And life goes on, and you learn to laugh through (and in spite of) the tears.
"I have survived so much loss, as all of us have by our forties—my parents, dear friends, my pets. Rubble is the ground on which our deepest friendships are built. If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and you never completely get over the loss of a deeply beloved person. But this is also good news. The person lives forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through, and you learn to dance with the banged-up heart. You dance to the absurdities of life; you dance to the minuet of old friendships."
—Anne Lamott ("untitled," p. 174, Plan B: further thoughts on faith)

Thursday, January 11, 2007

12 years

I'm wrapping up my work day and preparing to head out to meet my dad, brother and niece for dinner. Today is Katy's 12th birthday. She's 12. How did that happen already?

The first family birthday celebration since Katy's Grandma passed away will be a bittersweet one, I expect. But it's a day to celebrate, and to that end, I offer up again the tribute to Miss Kate's birth in my 1995 essay, "New Life."

Happy birthday, Katy!

Tuesday, January 2, 2007

Thank you, friends

As I ramp up to fulfill my resolution to blog more frequently this year (don't you love the verb "to blog"?), I thought I'd go for two consecutive days. It's a start.

My friend Renee gave me a page-a-day calendar for my birthday, and its theme is friendship. The January 2 quotation is so appropos to my experiences of the past year—thanks to those of you who have embodied this in my life:
"Show me a friend who will weep with me; those who will laugh with me I can find myself." —Slavic proverb
I am grateful for the shared tears and the shared laughter. Thank you all, for both.

Monday, January 1, 2007

Resolutions

Welcome 2007!

It would be an understatement to say that 2006 was a challenging year for me. In fact, I don't think it would be an exaggeration to declare that these past few months have been among the most painful of my life. They have also been full of signs of God's grace and love. I can't explain that phenomenon, but I am beyond grateful for it. More paradox. Hope in the midst of despair. The ultimate Christmas gift.

Over these last few days, I've been reflecting on the psychology of "happy new year," new year's resolutions and all that comes with the seeming arbitariness of, on December 31st at midnight, "leaving" one year and "entering" another. The symbolism of it all appeals to me, though, and while I'm not prone to making long lists of goals and resolutions, I have been encouraged by friends who have commented on my absence from the blog. And so I resolve to write more frequently in 2007, starting today, January 1.

Welcome 2007. May it truly be a new beginning, full of hope and healing. Happy New Year!