The township trucks rattle past my kitchen window these days, hauling last month’s Christmas trees. There are displays of Slim-Fast at the front of every grocery store, while candy hearts wait their turn a few aisles in. It must be a new year. Time to go around the track again.
I last checked in six weeks ago, on December 1st, when I reached the end of the first year of solo living. That milestone brought a sense of relief, actually – like when you turn in a term paper you were not sure you could finish in time.
But when I got to December 2 and took a good look around, the plain truth dawned – grieving is not a sprint. It’s a marathon. You put so much energy into so much for so long that by the time some of the bigger pieces of debris are done falling and a bunch of the dust has dissipated, you almost feel as if your loved one can come back, crunching across the altered landscape, almost as if you can get some of your old, normal ways back again. I mean, you know you can’t, but you sort of almost feel you could if you really tried. It’s not as sick as it sounds.
And that’s when you may decide to sit a while and catch your breath. So that’s what’s been happening. Christmas, my son’s birthday, hosting New Year’s, solving heating problems, visiting with family and friends, shoveling snow, clearing my desk (I’ll say that while I still can), journaling, praying, reflecting, being still — just generally, as Anne LaMott puts it, getting my carbonation back.
I’ve fiddled around with scraps of writing, trying to nail down what I’ve been learning so I could share it, but that’s about it. But though I really did want to talk with you, I also couldn’t seem to generate enough momentum to get from my scribbled notes to a few cohesive paragraphs I felt could hold their own if I sent them out into the world. I’ve been like the kid watching others skipping rope, considering when to commit to jumping in myself. Two people are turning the rope.
Whap! Whap!
And each time the rope strikes the pavement, you have to decide is this when you spring in or do you wait until it comes around a few more times?
Well, though I could polish this note better, or say something more profound, I’ve decided I’ve watched long enough. It’s Thursday, and since I can, I’ll jump back in.