Tuesday, December 31, 2013

and the horse you rode in on

other than 2010 (AKA "the year of the flood") i have never been so ready to bid adieu to year in my life.  that year was full of tangible loss, you know them by now...say it with me...job, house, car, all my belongings but the worst losses were the unquantifiable:  the safe, secure place called "home," the "amy" i used to be, the ease of pre-flood life, the "normal" that was so easy to take for granted.
 
but 2013 has been a year of loss so unquantifiable and so hard that it's given 2010 a run for its money.  the first week of the year came with a surprising (at least for me) cancer diagnosis for my maternal grandfather.  by the second week of april, 6 days after my 39th birthday, he was gone. 
 
my great-aunt, only 9 years my mothers senior, died in may, followed in august by my maternal grandmother (rather unexpectedly.)  my paternal grandmother died just last month at age 96.  in 7 months time i lost 3 grandparents and a great-aunt to whom i was very close.
 
my grandparents (all 4 of them) were instrumental in my life.  almost all of my good memories of childhood took place in their homes.  i didn't have the sanest of childhood homes and my grandparents were saviors.  we relied on them for money, time, a safe place and some normalcy. 
 
i feel rather like an orphan with 2 living parents.
 
the last month of the year came with surgery for 2 of my 3 pets:  winston the pug and moxie the cat.  only kentucky the cat was spared.  they, all 3, are fine and healthy now though we still have to have stiches removed for winston and moxie.  also, i'm recovering from a nasty bout of the flu.  all in all i'd rather the year be in the rearview!
 
grace and peace and hope for a better 2014

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

no words of my own

i have nothing to say today at all but i just wanted to share a beautiful poem from mary oliver:
 
march
 
there isn't anything in this world but mad love.  not in this world.  no tame love, calm love, mild love, no so-so love.  and, of course, no reasonable love.  also there are a hundred paths through the world that are easier than loving.  but, who wants easier?  we dream of love, we moon about, thinking of romeo and juliet, or tristan, or the lost queen rushing away over the irish sea, all doom and splendor.  today, on the beach, an old man was sitting in the sun.  i called out to him, and he turned.  his face was like an empty pot.  i remember his tall, pale wife; she died long ago.  i remember his daughter-in-law.  when she died, hard, and too young, he wept in the streets.  he picked up pieces of wood, and stones, and anything else that was there, and threw them at the sea.  oh, how he loved his wife.  oh, how he loved young Barbara.  i stood in front of him, not expecting any answer and yet not wanting to pass without some greeting.  but his face had gone back to whatever he was dreaming.  something touched me, lightly, like a knife-blade.  i felt i was bleeding, though just a little, a hint.  inside i flared hot, then cold.  i thought of you.  whom i love, madly.