Sunday, April 11, 2010

A Tilted Planet

I am in a renewed season of mourning. Kind of like renewing a lease. Only worse. Now that you know, I don't have to explain why more than a third of the month is gone and this little blog has been too quiet. I guess know it's because April 20, 2009 was the date we had our level 2 ultrasound and my world shifted on it's axis. (My true north was no longer near the pole anymore, but maybe more like somewhere in Canada.) And the anniversary of that date draws near. The memories are still nothing but painful, although now more of a dull ache instead of a raw piercing.

I have the best of intentions when it comes to making new blog posts. I get inspired. I take pictures, trying to find the best light. But when I imagine myself trying to sound giddy happy pleased about, oh, I don't know, a new recipe let's say, it just seems hollow. Because the grief has settled in again, following me wherever I go. 

Don't mistake me, there are moments of sweetness. I have been happy (at times) about Spring. I have felt swollen amazement when I look up at a crystal clear sky full of stars (no more winter cloud cover)! I have felt tickled at using my grill on warm Spring evenings and thinking about new and tasty grilled foods and side dishes. I have been totally inspired by my discovery of Foodzie (where have you been all my life?), which is like etsy, only for tasty, hand-crafted, natural artisan foods. I have enjoyed digging in my plots of earth  and planting little seeds. Tatiana and I were over-the-moon to get a box full of school books for next year. I even took pictures! 

But last year's memories linger, like a broken tooth that your tongue just can't seem to leave alone. Especially on days like Friday, when instead of my mail lady bringing books to my door, it was a slightly confused trucker with a small granite headstone on his dolly. 
Apparently, this delivery trucker usually takes his loads to the cemetery, not to a little white house with a homemaker nervously waiting at the front door.

"Do you get this kind of delivery here often?" he asked, slightly puzzled.

"No, sir..... Hopefully it's the only one I'll ever need."

And even that one has been almost more than I could bear.

P.S. Keyboard Soup. (Mom, you know what I mean.)



Jeana said...

Thinking of you and your dear Olivia.

Andrea said...

This post is really beautiful! Have I mentioned how great a writer you are. Thanks again for sharing your heart. I am praying for you my friend. Did you read "Bring the Rain" today? Very encouraging, I thought.

Love to you and your family! And thanks for the foodzie tip. That is awesome!

Saralyn said...

In "Bitter-sweet", George Herbert expressed your feelings well when he said:

"Ah my deare angrie Lord,
Since Thou dost love, yet strike;
Cast down, yet help afford;
Sure I will do the like.

I will complain, yet praise;
I will bewail, approve:
And all my sowre-sweet dayes
I will lament, and love."

I am praying for you as your set your face like flint to fight for joy.

Amber said...

Prayin' for you! Much love!

Anonymous said...

Remembering and mourning with you as we look back on this last year and remember Olivia. continuing to pray for you and family.

love, mom

stephanie said...

OH Beck, with you sweetie!
Love and hugs and prayers. on ,my way to church right now actually, Lifting you up in prayer!