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.
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8 comments:
I like your positive outlook.
When I "Moved on" (for my living little one)I reminded myself that WE had all moved on because my babies were always with me.
I can now reflect with a smile, though sometimes still through tears.
I hope you post a flowers in a vase picture. To be out in the snow they HAD to be beautiful.
Speaking of beautiful I LOVE the picture you posted of the purple flower.
I really hope you manage to move on, you sound really positive and as you say, "the need to start walking under my own power once again", is damn accurate!
I sincerely hope you manage to gather the strength to do just that.
HUGS
Beautiful post, m'love. You've done it again.
I don't have any idea how you feel.
Still, I'm here to support you as you fill your soul with the scent of spring.
Kate, I was out in the snowy dark last night cutting hyacinths. You are not the only one!
::hugs::
Well, I'm glad to hear you are getting yourself moving, but I'm sorry I just don't believe you are fat or old!
If you do believe that, and if you are going to try for a new baby or just live a long healthy life for Sam's sake, then maybe it's time to start exercising more and take some vitamins...maybe see a Dr. for a checkup?
(P.S. I don't believe you are frumpy either!)
lots of love coming to you my friend.
btw - you are neither fat nor old!!! you are a beautiful, kind person whom i consider one of my dearest friends.
i love you kate.
I hear you! I think the hard part is expressing what things like "moving on" really mean. Our society is so fond of pat answers and solutions, and "moving on" always sounds like one of those. But as you described, it is not nearly that simple or immediate. It's a process, and part of that process is deciding it's time. I think it's also understanding that it doesn't mean forgetting (as if we could), or never feeling sad again... but, as you so beautifully put it, "walking under our own power again." We decide to live more consciously, less on auto-pilot. We choose to "get out there" more, or re-discover things about ourselves we used to enjoy but have forgotten. And maybe it also means taking a risk, even the biggest most scary kind.
You have my heartfelt support, whatever "moving on" means for you.
And by the way, I don't believe you are a fat old woman either!
I found your blog on the SP10 list. It has moved me tremendously. I don't know how you feel or what you are going through, but I want you to know that I am thinking of you and your family.
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