A Day in the Life

May 25, 2003:

I did not write yesterday. It hurt too much to mark 1 year by putting words to the pain.

Huddling in my cave, snuffling from a miserable cold, peering into the bleak grayness of yet another rainy morning. Wallowing in the abject sorrow of marking a year without you. That’s how I saw yesterday – my life – my future.

Oh, to run away and hide from this life.

(Humbug)

Scrooge and the Grinch are my mentors.

I HATE MY LIFE. (so, go away)

Then…

The sun came out (dammit all) and life rang my doorbell in the form of a chubby cheeked little face from next door.

“Miss Josie. Is Coley home?”

“NO. She’s with her mommy today.” (now, go away)

“Wellllllllll…can I play in the yard for a little while? (sigh)

“Yes.” (humbug)

Soon the yard is writhing with waifs crawling on the gym, sifting sand into the grass and squealing in the swings. (groan)

The sun gleams brightly on their joyous abandon. (bah)

The dogs get into the act. (traitors)

Ball and sticks are thrown. Dark brown and café au lait bundles of fur bound through the tall grass and return to snorts, giggles and more squeals to be repeated again and again until all drop in an exhausted yet exuberant heap in the shade. (BAH AND HUMBUG)

Slowly…insidiously…slithering…something creeps into my heart.

What is this? (I think I'm in trouble)

A spark? (nooooooo…stop that)

A bit of joy? (begone)

A smile? (uh oh)

A small chuckle. (aw, shit)

Honest laughter. (oh. I give up)

Out that window life reminded me (again) that it goes on whether I will it so or not. Knowing how much you enjoyed watching the activity in our yard, I smiled again. It is for you and our grand that I continue on in this life I now have without you in it. Somehow I will find a way to stand tall.

Today:
Pain infused with joy. A balance trying to be found. Tears and laughter. Sunshine and sorrow. Perhaps one cannot be appreciated without the other.

He always said that good could be found even in the darkest time. Sometimes it’s inconvenient that he is right.

So many footfalls on this dark and twisted path I was the warrior…either battered, bowed and defeated by the hydra called Grief or victorious in having lopped off enough heads to keep him at bay for a time. Every step to the peace of today was a battle fought as real as any in the history of humans. Squirmishes won and lost. Wounds licked, healed, broken open and healed again.

That there could be days that would start so bleak, that could, at their end, be the cause of laughter was a complete mystery to me…they still are.

Yet, here I am, battle scars well and truly earned, something of a whole person again.

I think there just be a small speck that believes in at least small miracles.

Imagine that.