It's New Year's Eve. The kids are sleeping, the dog barking at fireworks, the husband spending some much needed time enjoying a pint and a few Phish songs among co-workers after an excruciating week of work. And me? I'm sitting, breathing out the past year, waiting to inhale the next. Today in the bath with both kids I tried telling them about resolutions, about promises to ourselves, about reflections. What has this past year given us? What has it taken away?
And there is that defining emotion of this year; Grievance. There's been so many beautiful memories with my family that fill my whole being with warm joy and among them an unbearable, nearly unspeakable sadness that sits in my center. That tightens me up and keeps breaking me down. I've been thinking in terms of lists. The 10 best memories and then re-naming it the 10 most important moments because how can the death of someone so much a part of you not touch every other part. So in lieu of a particular list I'd like to say my blessings of 2011, not numbered, not some top ten but the overall state this year has left me in. Here we go....
I feel more blessed than ever before in my life, oddly enough. I have a kind of love that surrounds me that I can barely believe it. Their support, encouragement, kisses, hugs and care nourishes me and keeps me whole. From morning through night I am sustained by so many people. There's been shoulders to lean into and strong arms to hold me up and gentle laughter to keep me going. I give thanks for the love of family.
This beautiful place we call Vermont has new meaning for me now too. After witnessing the devastation nature reaped on this area and the kind of community action that arose in the wake of tragedy my sense of humanity was renewed. Everywhere I looked after Irene I saw help being offered in the form of food, shelter, physical labor. It was one of the most heartwarming moments of my life. I give thanks for being witness to compassion in the world.
This year I turned 30! I celebrated over and over with people that I love in beautiful places, in faraway houses over dinner and wine with family, at a beach in the fall with children half naked burying themselves in sand, with old, dear friends carrying new life in their bellies, on walks with champagne with my brothers, tag sale-ing after dawn just me and my boy. I brought in a new decade perfectly.
Although with that celebratory moment in life I've discovered new weaknesses in myself. A new found anxiety looms over me sometimes. Migraines coupled with a nearly constant dizziness has made me more aware of my own mortality. I'm afraid I've become accustomed to diagnosing myself with brain tumors. Oops. I give thanks for having a partner with a wonderful ability to deal with my neurosis.
So this leaves me with loss. How do I find a way to give thanks for that? Should I even try? I've found ways around it by saying I'm so grateful for her presence in my life. I give thanks that I was able to be changed and loved by her. I give thanks that I was able to hold her hand when she needed me most. Of course I'm thankful for all of that. But am I angry? Sad? Bitter? Yes, I'm those things too. Am I scarred by her death? Am I aware of death to an obsessive degree? Yes. But with the passing of this year, with the hope and renewal that a new day brings, a new year, a new number on the calendar I'll say I can exhale. I'll let something go, a little bit of sadness maybe. I'll open my heart or at least loosen my grip. I'll make some room for the beauty and the privilege and the hope that this new year brings. I'll welcome it with open arms. I'll love it before I even know what it means.
And there is that defining emotion of this year; Grievance. There's been so many beautiful memories with my family that fill my whole being with warm joy and among them an unbearable, nearly unspeakable sadness that sits in my center. That tightens me up and keeps breaking me down. I've been thinking in terms of lists. The 10 best memories and then re-naming it the 10 most important moments because how can the death of someone so much a part of you not touch every other part. So in lieu of a particular list I'd like to say my blessings of 2011, not numbered, not some top ten but the overall state this year has left me in. Here we go....
I feel more blessed than ever before in my life, oddly enough. I have a kind of love that surrounds me that I can barely believe it. Their support, encouragement, kisses, hugs and care nourishes me and keeps me whole. From morning through night I am sustained by so many people. There's been shoulders to lean into and strong arms to hold me up and gentle laughter to keep me going. I give thanks for the love of family.
This beautiful place we call Vermont has new meaning for me now too. After witnessing the devastation nature reaped on this area and the kind of community action that arose in the wake of tragedy my sense of humanity was renewed. Everywhere I looked after Irene I saw help being offered in the form of food, shelter, physical labor. It was one of the most heartwarming moments of my life. I give thanks for being witness to compassion in the world.
This year I turned 30! I celebrated over and over with people that I love in beautiful places, in faraway houses over dinner and wine with family, at a beach in the fall with children half naked burying themselves in sand, with old, dear friends carrying new life in their bellies, on walks with champagne with my brothers, tag sale-ing after dawn just me and my boy. I brought in a new decade perfectly.
Although with that celebratory moment in life I've discovered new weaknesses in myself. A new found anxiety looms over me sometimes. Migraines coupled with a nearly constant dizziness has made me more aware of my own mortality. I'm afraid I've become accustomed to diagnosing myself with brain tumors. Oops. I give thanks for having a partner with a wonderful ability to deal with my neurosis.
So this leaves me with loss. How do I find a way to give thanks for that? Should I even try? I've found ways around it by saying I'm so grateful for her presence in my life. I give thanks that I was able to be changed and loved by her. I give thanks that I was able to hold her hand when she needed me most. Of course I'm thankful for all of that. But am I angry? Sad? Bitter? Yes, I'm those things too. Am I scarred by her death? Am I aware of death to an obsessive degree? Yes. But with the passing of this year, with the hope and renewal that a new day brings, a new year, a new number on the calendar I'll say I can exhale. I'll let something go, a little bit of sadness maybe. I'll open my heart or at least loosen my grip. I'll make some room for the beauty and the privilege and the hope that this new year brings. I'll welcome it with open arms. I'll love it before I even know what it means.
