Grandma would've been proud of me. There I was in the snow and freezing wind, wearing my summer sandals, flannel pajama pants and my husband's quilted flannel barn shirt, clipping daffodils and putting them into a vase. After all, the snow would kill the blooms and that seemed like an awful waste. Steve really should have taken a picture of me...my family would have gotten a really good chuckle from it.
There are days when I wonder who I am...where I come from...where I am headed. And then I find myself in the middle of a scene like the one described above (and laughing maniacally), and I KNOW exactly who I am...where I come from...where I am headed.
This probably doesn't make sense to you if you weren't there to witness my complete shock at seeing my reflection in the grocery store window. Unhappy fat old woman wearing a frumpy suit...The lines on my face that map out the sadness I've felt for the last two years....The eyes that hold a look I can not adequately describe. Where in the hell did SHE come from? And how in the hell do I get rid of her?
There has been a lot of talk recently about the philosophy of "moving on." And while I will be the first to champion each individual's right to grieve in the way they see fit, the fact is that at some point in time, you HAVE TO move on. A friend once described it as time dragging you along whether you want to go or not. And I think she's right. Time has dragged me along to this place where I look like I've been dragged behind a bus. Maybe I need to start walking under my own power once again. Time to stop wallowing.
The self-imposed deadline for making family-planning decisions is quickly approaching. The house is almost done. I never would have been able to move that bed or that washing machine if I had been pregnant, so it worked out well. But now? Now what? I found a connection to my past and an interest in my future...in the crazy-old-Polish-lady tradition of cutting flowers before they freeze in the snow. Who would have guessed?
Now I just have to get through the beginning of May to the end of the snow...spring blooms...real life...real decisions... As easy as it was to rescue them, the daffodils will only last so long in the vase. But then again, even under ideal weather conditions, they only last so long in the garden too.