Did I mention that the chocolate cake was AWESOME?
- At May 11, 2009
- By Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom
- In Giveaway, Love, Parenting
16
It’s not hard to make the people who mean something to you feel special.
But it can be easy to forget to do it regularly. I know that a lot of people don’t like Mother’s/Father’s Day because of the excessive commercialization. I’m not really bothered by that aspect of it – that the days are advertised and talked about just means I’ll remember to send something to the woman who spent hours playing in the sun with me, and the man who taught me how to love a garden.
That’s quite alright with me.
Yesterday, John let me play outside without worry, as he took care of household duties. I mowed the lawn and played with my flower beds. I watched him and Braden play together, talking of birdies and such. It was really lovely. (The chocolate cake I got to cram into my facehole last night wasn’t bad either.)
I can’t say I didn’t spend considerable time off and on thinking about things related to Mother’s day that are sad and which have no emotional or logical resolution that I know of right now. Things related to what is and what is not, what could have, would have, should have been. For myself. For others.
But I also spent a lot of time being aware of what I have and being grateful.
And, you know, eating that chocolate cake. Layered with chocolate mousse. *drool*
And while I enjoyed my day, I knew that there was a photo magnet and card from Snapfish in my mom’s hands, and the same for John’s mom. I know that even if I’m too much of a distractible, lazy douche to let them know every day, at least right now those two moms know I appreciate them.
I have a few things stashed away for June 21 (Father’s Day), too. Snapfish also helped with that. And there’s a $50 giveaway over here from them you can enter to get a jump start on your gifts, too. You can thank me later. (With Chocolate Tall Cake from Ruby Tuesdays. Just, you know, if you were wondering. IT’S GOOD.)
Even if it’s a crooked rainbow with colors missing. It still counts, damnit.
This past Sunday was an anniversary.
But not the kind you celebrate with an extravagant weekend getaway.
If you’re like me, it’s the kind you await with anxious trepidation, wondering what sick emotional games your head and heart will play with you.
A year ago last Sunday I suffered a miscarriage. It was the first (but not the last) time I would experience the realized loss of a living being within.
The bottle of Prometrium prescribed by the kind, helpful, and compassionate doctor on the other end of the phone with a sobbing, fretful, worried mother that night, one year ago last Sunday, still sits in my kitchen cabinet.
I still don’t have the heart to throw it away. Yet, I have no use for it. Seeing it reminds me of the baby. That’s not a great thing, but it’s not altogether a bad thing, either. It’s just… a thing thing.
Even though that first miscarriage ripped my heart out, and then I got an injection of Unexpected Hope only to suffer another Cosmic Sucker Punch, I have experienced a bit of healing in a whole year’s time.
But I don’t want to forget. And I don’t mean forget the babies (which I most certainly will not). I mean the pain.
There is something about the pain that is left after something that tears at your heart so fiercely. There is something about it that I don’t want to lose.
That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?
Perhaps it’s just the idea that this pain is the only thing I have left of this baby (of both of these babies), and the thought of letting go of it and moving on is just… well, shitty. Unpoetic as it may be, that is the best word for it. Letting go of that pain feels shitty.
If I can smile all day long every day (even when I’m looking at the damned bottle in the kitchen cabinet), then it feels as though I have nothing left of them. As if it does not matter that they were here one moment and then gone the next.
Fault me for it if you will, but nutty as it sounds – this pain is a tragically beautiful thing, and I don’t plan on letting go of it until I am holding my babies somewhere. Whether that is in some eternal dream or Heaven, or wherever else… that’s when I’ll release this gnawing grief.
Until then, that very pain helps me appreciate every hug, flower, and ray of light in this world. Because I’m a foolish girl, and when the light of the sun shines too prettily for too long, I have a tendency to take everything that’s good in my life for granted.
This pain? The way it lingers and sometimes flares up? It taps me on the shoulder and says, “Be grateful, woman.” It’s my reminder.
I refuse to even want to let go of that.
This past Sunday, I planted flowers for our lost babies, who we call Taylor and Davin.
They were purple alyssum, a choice made in order to simultaneously bow my head to another soul that was spirited away too soon.
I could want to be numbed (and some nights, I kind of am) or I could wish for complete healing, to leave these feelings behind and forget them.
Instead I’m going to hold onto what’s left of this pain, and when it feels the most raw, I’m going to try as hard as I can to turn that prism of pain toward the light, so that it creates the most beautiful rainbow I can make that effer shoot out.
The Boys Are Back In Town
And do you know how freaking happy I am about that?
John’s been gone since October 28th, and it has SUCKED. He is regularly out and about in the country with Chris Cagle, so it’s not like I’m not used to this sort of thing (being used to it doesn’t mean I ever have to like it).
This stint apart was just pretty poopariffic, because he had just gotten home from a trip where he missed my birthday (damnit!) and then he had to leave on the very same day to go galavanting around the country again, playing his funky music, white boy.
Show up and then leave on the same day? Can you say TEASER? Ugh.
At least we got to have a family fun day @ Honeysuckle Hill Farm. A place I highly recommend you visit if you live in or around the Nashville, TN area, btw. (There’s some more stalker info for you depraved lunatics. But it’s not like it’s not on my profile anyway. Okay, so that was more stalker info for the LAZY, depraved lunatics.)
By the way, if you also missed my birthday (October 27), it’s not too late to send chocolates and flowers, and any money you find lying around. And mark your calendars for next year, so you can throw me a big party like you meant to this year. It’s okay, I can wait another year. Just make it good.
As for my “wahwaahhh, I miss my husband” whining – I know there are ladies out there who have to miss their Loves for much longer at a time than I do… but I’m being self-centered here (haha, when am I not? This entire PAGE IS ABOUT ME).
This man does things like send me this:
For no reason at all. The note said, “Just thought this would brighten your day.”
!!!!!
And he rubs my feet at least once a day when he’s home. HE RUBS THEM AND DOESN’T COMPLAIN. I don’t know about you, but that’s GOLD to me.
And he’s patient. And funny. And he thinks I’M funny.
And he changes all the diapers, and does bath and bedtime when he’s home.
And, you know… there are other things. *blush* We won’t talk about that. I may have mentioned before that “enigma” is a favorite word of mine. 
Speaking of favorite words…
When I so unexpectedly stumbled across this man 6 years ago, I had no idea what a blessing he’d be in my life. I had no idea how much I’d enjoy torturing him with my maddening, evil, depricating humor… and that he’d just smile and laugh. (He just looks at me and says, “You’re sick.” *pause* “I like you.”) What the heck is wrong with him?
I had no idea that we would begin a journey of winding roads and valleys together… there have been bumps in the road, and the valleys get deep sometimes… but they make the smooth roads and the mountain peaks so much more fulfilling and noticeable. So much more alive.
I had no idea that he’d be the person I could be more compassionate to than I ever imagined I could be, and all because he himself has made me want to be a better person, lover, wife, and mother so many times.
When I was a little girl, I had a favorite book, “Serendipity.”
The book introduced me to the word, and I thought it sounded magical, and I felt powerful in secret ways when I would whisper it quietly in an empty room. It would almost tickle my tongue, and give me this little trembling feeling in my soul. I loved that word, and I never really knew why.
Weekly Winners
Time for Weekly Winners, October 28 – November 3
For new readers,
(Hi, guys! *waves* I love you!)
this is the time of the week (sunday) where I look back and pick out all my favorite pics and videos from the preceding week, and post them here for your enjoyment.
If you don’t enjoy them, well, that’s a sign that your heart is cold and black. And maybe you should try to stop being all buttholish.
Or something.
Photos
Honeysuckle Hill Farm
A wooded drive. I love those.
Zack, larger than a car.
His first whole apple. *sniff*
Gazing at airplanes, again.
Jack.
His shiny pinwheel.
Proof that my husband is AWESOME.
I’ve been having issues with video editing IN VISTA. Grrrr.
It’s really the only complaint I have about Vista so far… but it’s a BIG DEAL to me, darnit!
Without boring you with the details, the process I have to go through is a major arse-pain right now… so, just a couple videos.
This one… well. I don’t think he’s really saying it… but it sure sounds like it. Excuse the quality… it’s a phone-video, which I won’t usually post, but this was too good to resist.
See if you can hear what he says right before he puts the bottle in his mouth.
I am not happy with this development.
I clearly remember teaching him to call me “whore,” not “bitch.”
This one’s just darn cute. He loves reading. I’m hoping that will continue. Observe storytime.
Hope you guys had a slammin’ week.
My arse is suffering largeness from way too many “fun-size” candybars, and I miss my husband like crazy.
Thanks for keeping me company… I look forward to the continuing the Whoa!GoBlowHos-FoSho! Carnival Ride with you all.
Namaste!
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