This morning I’d planned to go raspberry picking with A. She loves every kind of berry and eats them most every day. In the beginning of this summer- right before time stopped, I had made a list of “fun summer things” we would do as a family. I was always doing stuff like that- mostly inspired/discouraged by the other mom blogs I was constantly reading for my freelance job. Those are the moms who have five kids, sew their own clothes, bake their own bread, home school their kids, and somehow find time to take photos of it all and post them.
Anyway, Dan and I had planned on going blueberry picking the Saturday after he got home- July 24th. Since raspberries are still in season, I looked online and found a farm not too far away and asked grandma and grandpa if they’d want to take us today. It was a big move for me- but I thought about how fun it would be for Audrey and so yesterday we practiced the picking motion with our arms.
When I woke up this morning, I could already tell it was raining from the lack of light in my bedroom and the muted sound of cars driving on wet pavement outside my closed window.
My parents said they’d still come over and take Audrey to Barnes and Noble, but I would rather try again tomorrow for the raspberry picking so it’s just me and Audrey on a rainy Sunday.
We started out eating blueberry crumb cake someone baked and dropped off for us yesterday- Audrey took the best part off- the crumbs. This girl is wise beyond her years.
While we ate I was thinking about how when someone dies, if they have lived well, people often come away from the service feeling that they want to emulate that person in some way. I remember feeling that way after my grandmother’s death- that she was so classy and never said a bad word about anyone. I’ve read in some of the more modern material on grieving- that yes, we should internalize those things we want to keep about that person and they will stay alive in us. I think I disagree. I think what happens at a service like Dan’s is that people come away wanting to be more like “themselves,” their “true” selves, but they don’t always recognize it as such. In Dan’s case, he was very much himself, and that has shined through in all of the beautiful emails and memorial pages I’ve received from people he knew from so many different facets of life. He hated “posers,” as he called them.
So, even though initially I had the strongest urge to start watching soccer and learning about it so that I could keep that part of him alive, I don’t really know if I’d be any good at that. I’d like to teach Audrey some of the things I know he would’ve passed on, but I think I’d be doing a disservice to all three of us, if I spent too much energy on this and sacrificed the time I should be spending on becoming more of myself. What does that look like? Becoming more of myself? I’m not sure yet, but I know this writing has something to do with it and will help me figure that out.
“And now, with God’s help, I shall become myself.” Soren Kierkegaard