Breaking Silence

bit·ter·sweet
noun \ˈbi-tər-ˌswēt\
1
: something that is bittersweet; especially : pleasure alloyed with pain
2
a : a poisonous Eurasian woody vine (Solanum dulcamara) of the nightshade family that has purple flowers and oval reddish berries and is naturalized in North America b : a North American poisonous woody vine (Celastrus scandens) of the staff-tree family having clusters of small greenish flowers succeeded by yellow capsules that open when ripe and disclose the scarlet aril


On the eve of my new year...I am tossed to the four winds. That feeling keeps me from writing here sometimes. I am breaking my habit of silence tonight. What can I say? At school I joke that it isn't my birthday so much as the anniversary of my retirement. At home and in hushed conversations I think and say that I don't really care. I am so overwhelmingly sad these past few weeks that it is hard to become very excited about much. It happens to be my husband's birthday as well... but he doesn't really get very excited about watching the numbers flip over in this case, either. I could concentrate on the fact that it is the 30th anniversary of our first kiss... a chaste birthday smooch to his cheek whose electricity seemed to hurl me backwards across the room in such a way that I saw my life had suddenly, irrevocably and forever been changed. I could concentrate on the benevolent good fortune that graced us today: brought my car in for its yearly inspection today and the repair bill tallied in the hundreds and not in the thousands.

I will say this: I dreamt of Chris earlier in the week. We were on a long walk/shopping excursion. We laughed and talked... and it was wonderful! One moment in the dream, I glanced at the bags in his hands and clearly could see the ingredients inside would come together to become my birthday cake. Sometimes I walked while looking down at my feet... and sometimes when I looked up, I realized I was walking with his sister, instead.

I woke with the memory of the happiness of that walk... but have became increasing sullen in the hours and now days that have passed. What can I do when this grief sweeps over me? What can I do with the added losses that pile up as time goes on (because clearly the recent loss of my dear Jewel is weighing and wearing heavily as well) ? And the answer is I do not know. I just keep going. Lately the grief goes with me more often than not. I try to focus... like the photograph of the branch above... look passed the berries and there's that lovely sky. So tomorrow is THE day... think I will order a cake that is covered in those roses (my husband's favorite part). Think I will take a drive to the beach in the morning. Think I will try to look past the bittersweet and into the blue.

~

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=diyhd4AMAhA&feature=related