by | Jun 18, 2011 | 0 comments

So many things to tell you- so much I’m collecting.  I keep collecting, but not the way I did in the past when I waited to share the details of my day with you over dinner in the evening…I realize I can’t hold this much, this many days, months, and years, and all they contain in my head or even in words anymore.  But still, I hold them.  Collect them.  Somewhere inside.

The other day I realize that in our Netflix queue is a record of all of the movies we watched over the last few years- complete with all of your ratings- 390 of them.  Audrey can see that you gave The Host and The Machinist five stars…that you gave Happy Gilmore and Slumdog Millionaire four.  It is nice that I have this record since I usually forget all of the movies we’ve seen and needed to ask you whether I’d seen something or else I might watch it again by accident, only thinking half way through that it seemed familiar.

Last night I write a song in tears- but at first I hear it in my head but can’t find the right chords on my guitar.  I am still so used to just singing it for you and having you tell me what I’m looking for.  Instead I struggle along and curse until I find them.  Then I sing, “What can I do with this love?”

A E F#m.

I’m heading straight down the aisle toward your coffin again- straight through Father’s Day with no father for my child, straight through the day that the world changed for me- the sky looked enormous and floating and overwhelming.  I’m numb I think because I don’t stop doing things, keeping busy, and feel as if I’m preparing for an anti-wedding, the last minute details- the stress underneath all of the phone calls and trips to the florist and caterer.

I watched a documentary on death and mortality last weekend.  It was mostly based on Ernest Becker’s book, “The Denial of Death.”  Fairly convincing…that basically all that we do- our culture, our religions, our patriotism and politics- are just a means of denying our future demise.  In it, one of the sociologists refers to us as “meaning hungry creatures.”


June 18, 2011


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You May Also Like…

List-making in a Dark Time

List-making in a Dark Time

For any other list-makers out there, I published this on HerStories yesterday.""In this time of quarantine, my lists are offering me space outside of the walls of my home, a way of making sense of chaos, a self-imposed structure on structure-less days, and even a way...

Simple Things

Simple Things

"In our deepest self we keep living with the illusion that we will always be the same." Henri Nowen "It's really very simple," my late spiritual director, Gladys, once said to me. She was talking about how she lived each day, waking up, having a written conversation...

Continuous Living

Continuous Living

"Anxiety turns us toward courage, because the other alternative is despair." Paul Tillich I've claimed "seasonal affective disorder" for years, and that may be so, but I'm starting to realize it's not only summer to fall that is hard for me. It's winter to spring, and...