My grampa passed away yesterday. Boy, am I going to miss him. I'm glad he got to go peacefully, though. He's such an incredible example to me. I love you, Grampa.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Ray Hardy Clark: 14 September 1925 – 30 July 2012
My grampa passed away yesterday. Boy, am I going to miss him. I'm glad he got to go peacefully, though. He's such an incredible example to me. I love you, Grampa.
Monday, May 28, 2012
only three more days in May
too fast.
i want to slow everything down.
everything for me.
selfish?
so
i can hold my boy a little longer before his nap.
so
i can gaze at the mountains more deeply on a rainy morning.
so
i can rest side to side with my love and speak a thousand more soft words.
so
i can run another mile and feel stronger and braver for the day ahead.
so
i can call everyone i've been meaning to call but haven't because by day's close i'm beyond ready to curl up in bed.
just some thoughts.
i cut up mushrooms, peppers, and olives in mom's kitchen tonight.
dad said, it goes by too fast. he looked out the window at eamon playing in the water with his uncles.
those are probably not his exact words, but what he voiced contained similar sentiment.
i responded, yeah, before i know it, eamon will be a dad.
mom quickly said, don't say that.
it's true, i thought, though. it's all going way too fast and i'm powerless to slow anything down but my breathing. so slow it i will. i will deepen it as well--for all the moments when i need to be present enough to remember the joy, sadness, beauty, happiness, or originality of a fleeting instance.
i want to slow everything down.
everything for me.
selfish?
so
i can hold my boy a little longer before his nap.
so
i can gaze at the mountains more deeply on a rainy morning.
so
i can rest side to side with my love and speak a thousand more soft words.
so
i can run another mile and feel stronger and braver for the day ahead.
so
i can call everyone i've been meaning to call but haven't because by day's close i'm beyond ready to curl up in bed.
just some thoughts.
i cut up mushrooms, peppers, and olives in mom's kitchen tonight.
dad said, it goes by too fast. he looked out the window at eamon playing in the water with his uncles.
those are probably not his exact words, but what he voiced contained similar sentiment.
i responded, yeah, before i know it, eamon will be a dad.
mom quickly said, don't say that.
it's true, i thought, though. it's all going way too fast and i'm powerless to slow anything down but my breathing. so slow it i will. i will deepen it as well--for all the moments when i need to be present enough to remember the joy, sadness, beauty, happiness, or originality of a fleeting instance.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
strength
Pilgrims on their knees.
Weary.
Knees worn and bleeding.
This is life.
Yes, I know. There is so much good in my life and in the lives all around me. The goodness of life is grand. All the joy. All the smiles. All the sunshiny moments.
But there's a dark and a troubled side too. We go and go and go and go, often past the point when we don't know how to keep going at all. So every time I hear "God Be with You Till We Meet Again" I now see a picture of endurance. You go and go and endure and go and endure. So tired in the end that you're left in a kneeling heap. Effort. It takes all you have to raise your head from your prostrate position at his feet. Yes, you made it. Come into my rest.
The above words reflect some thoughts I wrote down last September; I've continued to mull them around, especially during the last couple months. There hasn't been a day since Tawna's passing I haven't thought of her. Every day I think of her strength and endurance; I marvel at her fortitude. She has blessed my life for good. Boy, I have a long way to go, but I'm grateful I don't have to go it alone. Every day I'm blessed by the smiles of others, by the love of my family, by the beauty of this earth, and by so many things I would never be able to stop counting.
Weary.
Knees worn and bleeding.
This is life.
Yes, I know. There is so much good in my life and in the lives all around me. The goodness of life is grand. All the joy. All the smiles. All the sunshiny moments.
But there's a dark and a troubled side too. We go and go and go and go, often past the point when we don't know how to keep going at all. So every time I hear "God Be with You Till We Meet Again" I now see a picture of endurance. You go and go and endure and go and endure. So tired in the end that you're left in a kneeling heap. Effort. It takes all you have to raise your head from your prostrate position at his feet. Yes, you made it. Come into my rest.
The above words reflect some thoughts I wrote down last September; I've continued to mull them around, especially during the last couple months. There hasn't been a day since Tawna's passing I haven't thought of her. Every day I think of her strength and endurance; I marvel at her fortitude. She has blessed my life for good. Boy, I have a long way to go, but I'm grateful I don't have to go it alone. Every day I'm blessed by the smiles of others, by the love of my family, by the beauty of this earth, and by so many things I would never be able to stop counting.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
cheep
My aunt got herself an early birthday present, in the form of chicks. We went and saw them last week. Sooo cute! Eamon learned a new word--cheep--and said it many a time as we sat there, watching them roam about on the grass. I love spring! And I love all my lovely family that's so nearby. You know who you are, and you're the best. Happy first day of spring!
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
rest
My morning runs and swims free me from "forethought[s] of grief," especially with Tawna so close to the veil now. Too many thoughts swirling round. To simply sum up: I'm going to miss her, but she will be free from her failing body--and such freedom will be joyful and relieving.
The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be.
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world and am free.
The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be.
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world and am free.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
old emails make me smile
like ones from 2006, when I was in Ukraine, apparently pleading for my sister to send me some electronic mail:
Her response:
Well, I sent you a letter so you can't die a bloody death. You shall recieve it soon, hopefully. Also, are you allowed to abbreviate your name like that?
rat-a-tat-tat-tattyevery week, i get my hopes up high, higher than jane and michael ever flew their kites, that i'll get an e-mail from you, and then every week my kite gets caught, cut, wounded, bloddied, clubbed, and rent in the likes of a whomping willow tree when i see that there is not a word from my beloved guya.basically i almost die a bloody death when i'm left without anything from you.because i love you.and i want to hear from you.i love you.have a great week,skabsislyn
Her response:
Well, I sent you a letter so you can't die a bloody death. You shall recieve it soon, hopefully. Also, are you allowed to abbreviate your name like that?
Sunday, February 5, 2012
a Sunday morning
Eamon has some awesome mad-scientist hair after bathtime. The light came in his window so gloriously as Andrew was dressing him that I couldn't help taking lotsa pictures. My boys are pretty handsome.
Marmee gave E the cutest church outfit for his birthday. On a whim last week, I tried it on him; I thought it wouldn't fit because he's almost 14 mths and the outfit is 24 mths. Well, the top--white shirt, vest, and tie--fit perfectly but the pants were very many inches too long. So we dress him in his jeans on bottom and the rest on top. Thanks, Marm, for the fun and cute outfit. I just love the tie on him. Here he is with it on last week:
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