Three Eggs In A Nest

Winter is coming

And the bluebird in my backyard is gone

He left three little eggs in a nest

A nest made of twigs and golden leaves

Fallen from trees

Left on our doorstep

By you

A nest that will hold us warm and tight

Through the dark nights

Until we can see the light

Of longer days

And hear the bluebird singing in our backyard again

 

Song is Flightless Bird by Iron & Wine. Painting is by Nashville artist, Lauren Ossolinski

Dry Eyes

I went to a Memorial service called Yizkor for the ending of Yom Kippur last night.

My Rabbis lovingly encouraged me to go.

“It’s really sad,” they said.

“Everyone will be crying but you will be surrounded by love and everyone there will be feeling sad too.”

My immediate fear was what if I don’t cry.

A widow who lost her husband at a Memorial service and her eyes are dry.

How will that look?

And I did not cry.

Not one teardrop fell.

And I did feel self-conscious about it.

“Tears, where are you? You show up at the oddest times. Why can’t you be normal?”  I imagined saying to my tears in the way I desperately beg my puppy at the end of the day to come to me because I was ready for bed an hour ago.

“Where are you when I am surrounded by people who love me?”

“Why do you always wait until you are alone with me? I could use some company, a shoulder, a hand to hold, to be seen and known in my darker places.

But I know it's not their fault that my tears are shy.

The other night my son and I were doing our nightly routine of chasing our puppy to put in his crate.

I suggested to my son that we try something different.

“Let’s just sit and see what happens.”

Wagging his little tail, he came right to us.

For a moment, I forgave my dry eyes.

It seems like an analogy for life.

Chasing after what we think we should be or our kids should be or life should be or who should be in our life.

Chasing life ragged.

Hurrying to get everyone to bed.

Worried we will finish last, or ashamed because we are the first.

Terrified that at any turn along our road, we will find ourselves alone.

In a Synagogue with dry eyes.

My words on this page are my tears.

I don’t have to chase my words.

I sit still and they come.

The song is Breakdown by Jack Johnson

 

 

 

 

COUNTING

And then I add countless meals and so many people on a January morning and family and friends organizing and visitors and support and notes and space to feel "normal" and comfort and homemade bread and Facebook likes and lightbulbs and little gifts and new air filters and helping me with numbers and thoughts of us and invitations and kid playdates and dog playdates and rides for the kids and late night text messages and last minute help me please and plenty of love. 

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In-Between

I am learning to be in the tender places.

The places where you can feel how much it could hurt before you even get close.

The places where who I was and who I am and who I am always becoming meet.

The places where I can touch the ways I have been broken and feel the ways I am getting better. 

I am trying to find these places more often because they quiet my mind and mend my heart.

I call these places the in-between because I am no longer there and I am not yet here.

Do you feel the same way about these places? Have you touched them too?

For Orlando

 

In the middle of the night in her bed

Or in an Orlando nightclub

Time keeps moving without waiting for our us to catch our breaths

We need reassurance that our hearts will beat again

We search for answers

The only answer I can ever find

Is what comes out of darkness

The coming together of people who carry heavy hearts and heads

Until light comes again

It always does

And darkness, it always does too

Because without night there is no day

On the first star I see tonight what I wish for is to not have to worry about monsters under my bed

or assault weapons or mass shootings or hatred or anti-semitism or homophobia or racism or bigotry

The kind of darkness I would hope for would be the kind you would see far away from city lights on a clear night. The kind of darkness you can fall asleep under and know the dark night is holding the light of the stars until the morning sun comes to say hello.

I keep my ideals, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. - Anne Frank

Blink

Christmas lights & Miami heat

Walking the streets of South Beach

Until we blinked

And saw crowds of people followed by blurry days

A snow that lit up the Nashville sky and traced our new footprints

Until we blinked

Our eyes opened to longer days

Where I stood awkward on the sidelines

Missing the sound of my son's number one fan

Until we blinked

Craving burgers he proudly grilled on summer evenings

And long, hot family days at the pool

I saw his faded tattoos and pale white skin in the water

Wearing that same old bathing suit from Target year after year after year...

Back to the years where he would throw the kids at the pool so high in the sky

And they would say while laughing "again Daddy just one more time and higher this time, Daddy."

It's gonna be a long summer without you, Jay. 

The below song is one of Jay's favorites called "My Daughter in The Water" by Loudon Wainwright and it sums up exactly how he felt about his daughter, Zoe. The picture is our "Have Your Selfie A Merry Little Christmas" FB post taken in Miami in December.