The World Says "It's Been Eight Years...

... you can forget."

My heart screams back, "NEVER."

When my Dad told me the news that Friday afternoon, I felt my body and my spirit split in two.

My mind floated above my body, numbly observing it crumpled on the floor, groaning under the weight of the most agonizing grief I'd ever experienced.

And at that moment, I thought that I would never be whole again.

But I learned that time does heal wounds.

I learned that the anguish that made it impossible to eat for days, eventually dulled.

The tears that were constantly on my cheeks, eventually dried.

I also learned that in choosing to live my life to the full, it honors her memory.

I've learned to smile instead of cry every time I put my perfume on, and to say her name in conversation, even when it seems awkward.

I've learned that grief goes from a piercing stab to a dull ache to a sweet savor.

That some days I can't remember what her laugh sounded like, and I panic.

But that on other days I remember something I'd forgotten, and it brings renewed happiness.

This summer we went to visit her... and I learned that it's harder than I thought it would be to kneel at the gravestone of a precious friend, brushing debris from the surface.

But I've also learned that friendship goes beyond death, and the countless tears I've cried will be replaced with sweet gales of laughter when we're reunited.

Someday.

An Addie-ism

Addie pointed to the silver ring on my thumb...

"Does that mean that you're married?"

"No," I replied. "It just meant that I liked it, so I bought it."

She began to cry.

"I'm SORRY that you're so lonely," she wailed.

I tried to assure her that Aunt Lindsay was just fine with being single, that I'm not exorbitantly lonely.

A minute later she said,

"Well, at least you don't have to bother with a child... or cook larger meals."

Aaaah - the upswings of singledom.

Now We Are 14!

Merry Christmas!

A Quick Little Quip

I was playing my piano last night, and Addie was curled up in my living room chair.

The song finished, and her lilting little voice said,

"Your music is sweet. Sweet like candy."

LOVE!

Merry Christmas, my friends!

Good Ol' Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
'There is no peace on earth,' I said,
'For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.'

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.'

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Things That Make Me Say "Hmmmm"

It seems to me that I'm on the incorrect coast...

Of All The Indignities

I went to get my hair cut today.

The hydraulic in the chair was broken.

They made me sit on a booster seat.

The end.

It's Us... or Is It??

One can never tell when one is wearing glasses as large as one's face.

This is what I call the epitome of incognito!

More Thoughts on Chivalry

After my recent post on chivalry, I've done a lot more thinking on the topic... had some discussions with friends, and come to a bit more of an understanding of what I think on the topic.

Here are the results:

In my opinion the seeming death of chivalry was brought on by the whole women's lib movement, and those of us who are coming in the aftermath have to decide which side to stand on... and the lines have become grayed, so the choice is harder then ever to make.

As a single woman, I have both sides screaming at me... one side stating that I don't need anyone else to make my life fulfilling... or to help me survive. It's my responsibility to prove to the world that I am just as competent as my male counterparts... more competent even, and I don't need help. Asking for or accepting help is admitting weakness... and weakness is not to be tolerated, when the goal is equality.

The other side, the side that comes from inside my heart, knows that I was created differently. It yearns to be taken care of... to freely admit that sometimes I do need help. To acknowledge that it feels comforting when someone is taking care of me... and to take pride in being what the world scoffs at as the "weaker sex."

Living under the microscope, watched carefully for being an almost 30 single career woman is an interesting place to find myself... Some are scornful because I freely admit that all I want to be is a wife and mother. Others are filled with disdain because I'm refusing to sit at home and wait for my knight to come in and sweep me off my feet... instead, I'm out following my dreams in school, and making a living for myself.

Is this where I saw myself when daydreaming as a little girl? Not at all. I had the names of my yet-to-be-born children all picked out... and even some potential groom's names :)

So here I am, trying to find the balance. Trying to prove myself in the world, desperately not wanting to be pitied for my single status, and yet trying to remember to graciously accept help if needed...

But there is still that little bit of me that wants the world to know that if there's not that specific someone out there taking care of me right now, I can do a pretty good job taking care of myself.

PS - all of this does not take into account the three amazing men in my family, who take good care of me, though two of them live miles and miles away.
Just this morning, my big brother was out in the snow at 6:15 helping me get my car started when the battery died.