Now and at the hour.

There are no words for what I feel right now.
I am sitting in the wooden kitchen chair I always sit in when I write.
I feel the firmness on the underside of my thighs, feel the familiar prop of my toes, like a dancer, upright and stiff.
My body is here, I feel it, know that it exists.
I am only aware however that I am real by the extension of my limbs, the contrast of feeling, them to the wood to the floor.
I am in preparation for death mode again.
My eyes burn with tears that fill and then seem to dissolve before spilling.
The inside of my nose tickles with anticiaption of the real cry,
the inevitable, unstoppable tidal wave of grief.
There are no words for what she has meant to me.
Are not enough words, no perfect succession, pairing, poem or song,
that can ever, will ever spell out the gravity of this love I feel for her.
I am confident there are no words,
not even my own.
And here come the real tears now.
I wish that I could tell her one more time, although it has all been done and said before.
I wish that I could squint past the sunspot on the back porch peer into her amber flecked eyes and say one more time "Nana can I throw the bread ends to the birdies now?"
I wish that I could hear her whistle,
hear her say "see you later Alligator"
taste her macaroni and cheese.
Drink a cup of tea.
Have her reach in to feel my feverish forehead.
Hear the tea cups in the dining room rattle as she strides the floor towards my room.
Call me tweetie.
Call me Deb-or-ah Ann.
Hold my little hand.
Eat friendlys ice cream.
Go to the Holiday bazaar at the Knights of Columbus.
Watch her set the wishbone on the windowsil to dry.
Make gravy.
Get her a kleenex.
Watch her blot bright red lipstick.
There are so many moments from the last 41 years of life that I wish I could return to, if even for just a second, a flash of what was, one more "take a look at me now Nana" - just one more time.
Once more before it all changed, once more before she leaves me now.
I would not stop her, if I could.
I want her to go.
But I want her to stay inside me too.
I want to be little.
I want to be her Granddaughter forever.
I want keep every single kiss, every single smile, every wink.

My safe place is leaving.
Where will I go?
Who will pray for me now?

And I can hear her in my head, "offer it up."

She taught me to be gentle.
She taught me to be kind.
She taught me to write letters and send cards.
She taught me to be proud of who I am.
She taught me selflessnes.
She taught me to be respectful.
She taught me to cook.
She taught me to act like a lady.
She taught me to love.
She taught me to sing.
She taught me about dignity.
She taught me to have grace.
She taught me to knit.
She taught me to swim.
She taught me to do everything I know.

She made me every good thing that I am.

I am glad that I named my daughter after her. I am thankful she lived long enough to see her great grandchildren, thankful she was able to say "Emma Claire" while beaming with pride steeped in family tradition.
I am glad my stew tastes just like hers and that I don't flip my omelettes.
Her violet is bright purple now, a purple so saturated the color seems unnatural.
It's fitting.
You got to win a little lose a little and always sing the blues a little, that's the story of, that's the glory of love....
It's the ebb and flow, the giveth and the taketh, the balance - I know Nan.
It's always about the balance.
41 a big year for me...
She saved my life simply by living hers.
Thank you.
I love you.

There are no words for you Nana, none that strike any kind of dent.
All I can think of are these...

Our Father who art in heaven......

This is the part where I stay where I stand.

Good Morning Blog readers,
I am a bad blogger..... I fear that our time apart has made you forget about me.
I assure you, I have not forgotten about all of you.
My life, has taken a turn. Things have suddenly become so full, writing has taken a back burner, like a really far away back burner, possibly the last thing on my "to-do" list.
Full is good, we have previously established that - it was full before and yet, or however... somehow empty.
That empty has been replaced with a new love and his beautiful, hilarious children.
I have four new loves of my life, six if you count his dog and cat, fifteen if you count the chickens and rooster.
I am in love.
Wow, right?
who knew that would ever happen - certainly not the skeptic that is me. Skeptic or cynic? Debatable....
I have met a man who has literally swept me clean off my feet.
Great thing about that, he has done it just by being himself in full on, raw honesty.
No fanfare, no illusions, no smoke and mirrors - just him and who he is.
And, I love everything about him. He says that we are basking in the "newness glow" - okay fine, maybe we are - but I say, fundamentally, I know, this man has the goods that I NEED.
I was so unsure that this concept was a reality in life, that I am in shock to KNOW so surely, so soon - that I love this man with all that I am.
Crazy.
Thing about him, he makes me laugh. He is smart. He is super witty and quick. He is honest. He is good. He gives me fresh eggs. He has soft skin. There is more, but I sound like a teenager - I am well aware of my giddiness - I get I am totally annoying right now.
Have you ever seen the movie Pretty Woman?
If you have, think back about Julia Roberts character - her stand on kissing...
Remember?
She is a call girl who sleeps with men, but NEVER kisses them.
Kissing she says is intimate, the most intimate act that two people can share.
I subscribe to that way of thinking, I am with Julia full tilt on that one.
Kissing is the tell all.
I have not kissed much in my adult life - the intimacy was lacking and therefore made the kiss feel wrong, uncomfortable, compromising...
I could kiss Bob Selph for the rest of my life and never need to come up for air.
Now, he is a good kisser - and I am sure that his lady friends before him would all agree he has a powerful pucker - I am sure I am not the first woman to want to drown in his mouth.
However, I am going to claim that it was wrong with all those who came before, it is right with me.
When I put my smile to his, it is with a familiar reciprocity that I am greeted....
It is the most beautiful thing ever and I love it, love him.
Suddenly I understand love songs too.
I don't yearn when I hear them now - like "oh I wonder will I ever feel what those lyrics reference?"
I get it now....I get it all.
And so my blog readers - this is why I have not been writing - I have been too busy kissing a beautiful man.
I hope you will forgive me and root for love in my absence.
I promise I won't stay away so long....

Just leap and the net will appear.

Dearest Blog readers,
I have missed you....I find myself this evening in my bed, a glass of red wine by my side, the soft flickering glow of candle light illuminating the room. The kids are in bed, lunches made, backpacks at the door and waiting, clothes laid out, the alarm set for six and my eyes drooping heavily - the candle light helps lessen the burn in my sockets, the glare from this computer screen working against the relaxing ambiance. And yet....I type none the less - I have missed these keys, the way they click under my fingernails, the way the thoughts surface and spill as soon as the blank screen and blinking cursor say, come hither Deb...
I miss writing, miss my manuscript, miss my canary memoir most of all.
Today I was thinking about that week at PH this summer, the week I spent slaying demons, inviting them to the battle ground of my safe place at the end of the world.
I let out them just long enough to pin them to paper, put them somewhere I can keep my eyes on them,
cage them in words, words and more words.
They deserve the words just as much as I do....
I am in a strange new place right now - someplace I never really even dreamed existed - these kinds of dreams were had by others - never by me.
I was content to dream of masters degrees, publishers, healthy kids, my 4runner turning over 400,000 miles...
I never imagined I would be here.
I have met a man that has completely and utterly knocked the wind from my complacent life.
He looks directly into my eyes, and in his, I see a different possibility - one that is so clear, everything else looks blurry by comparison.
He is beautiful and gentle, kind and funny, smart and compassionate. In him, I see a man that can handle and even better yet, compliment everything that I am.
Everything I do will look better with him by my side.
I am in love.
Being in love is amazing.... and scary as hell.
Last night, this morning too, we had to unearth some demons from my past and a few from his as well.
Looking back is unfortunately, always part of looking forward - no matter how much you wish it were not so.
The past grows the present, and can surely choke the living shit of new growth if you don't tend to it, nurture it, continually pull up the weeds.
I must trust myself and him.
sigh.
He is not my past he is my future....
We walked a little of the hallowed soul ground today - I wish we had done it in PH by the shore while listening to the seagulls...I wish that instead of a challenging phone call, we were back down on my favorite rock where I could tell the stories and the wind would carry them away on a breeze of understanding.
I am too tired to write, I am too in my own head to be decipherable.
I hope he gets up on my gilded perch, and Mary that has two meanings, do with it what you will.
Just leap and the net will appear.