The sort of year I'd like to remember fondly, but I'm still too close to the chaos of what it was.
I will remember my sister.
I will remember her taking my four year old out dancing until 11pm, as if she was nineteen, sneaking her into the club, busting moves to whatever the kids are dancing to these days. I will remember all of the late nights talking and scraping floors and rolled organics and road trips West, North and East. I will remember watching her run a marathon through the hills and neighborhoods of the twin cities, driving frantically from mile marker to mile marker in hopes of catching a glimpse and cheering her on. She is one beautiful and dedicated and independent woman if there ever was one.
I will remember my Dad returning from trips this way and that, Africa or Turkey or Columbia or who knows where, and the way he looked at my children as if it had been a whole year since he saw them last.
I will remember my mother and her condo in the city, a refuge of cleanliness and padded carpet and tenderness that was our home away from home.
Dear, beautiful, like minded friends, who we stayed up late with and shared Thanksgiving with and fixed gutters with. You don't think it's possible to make deep friendships anymore, like there isn't room in life or your good fortune has run out, and then you move to a new city and introduce yourselves and then it happens.
And my kids. Taking in stride their parents crazy whims, taking baths in plastic bins and moving from place to place, room to room, bed to bed, while we shuttled around the house to the repetitious tune of fixing and cleaning, fixing and cleaning. Having one parent a day, five or six days a week, mom till 3, dad till bed. They made friends and explored and grew up and neither of them will probably remember much of it.
I will though. Our crazy year spent fixing up a broken old house, etc.
January 24, 2014
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4 comments:
Sounds like a year to have fond memories of. Lovely to read about and thank you for writing of it. Love to you and K xo
3/09/14...Happy 36th Birthday to Kari's sister, Heather!
Josh- I found you through a comment on my own blog from a woman I never met. i am happy that 2013 was a year you can remember it fondly, that you have found some measure of peace. For me, 2013 sucked. Aside from the normal tribulations of life, now mostly inconsequential, the entire hear comes down to December 28th. That's the day our 24-year-old son, Jake, died suddenly, unexpectedly, and unnecessarily. I am now a new member of the ghastly fraternity of fathers who have lost children. While our situations are different, I see by your writing that our thoughts, fears, feelings, and expressions are very much the same. Much of what you write resonates with me. I started writing the day Jake died as a way to help process the chaotic and turbulent emotions I faced (still do), and I see you have done the same. I wrote recently that very few dads publicly share their feelings of such an experience, I commend you for your frankness and honesty. It is somewhat comforting to see that there is some returning to a normal existence after such a tragedy, albeit a very different normal than we ever could have envisioned. Thank you for showing me that there is life after such a horrible occurrence, although a life hitherto unlooked for and unimaginable. I sincerely that 2014 turns out to be a great year for all of us. Be well, and I wish you peace.
Sorry for all the typos, wrong and omitted words here. I am not always writing that clearly these days, but I think you get the gist.
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