Even if it all blows away, it was still worth the now
From D.W.: To all those readers who followed along through the Lenten series over the past two months, thank you so much. I hope that it brought you some joy, or reflection, or comfort. I’m glad that I could offer them, but I’ll level with you: now that I’m transitioning back into the regular posting schedule, I’m a bit torn.
You see, I compiled all these Lenten meditations before posting the first one. I pre-scheduled all of the posts so that they’d be published on the appropriate date. Doing all of that was a fair amount of work, but once it was done, I didn’t need to engage with this blog until the series was over. And, now that I’m back at it, my head’s all over the place.
Maintaining this site is hard. There are logistical and administrative difficulties, sure, but it’s also emotionally taxing. Going through her writing over and over again, reminding myself of what we had, and what we lost, reliving the moments… it weighs on you.
BUT… it’s also given me the opportunity to connect with her and her memory in an intentional way over and over again. And for that, I’m grateful. The tears are worth it.
So, we press on.
Clearly there are many things that have happened in our world over the last two months that warrant some classic Rachie-rage (or Rachie-compassion, or Rachie-humor, or whatever), but we’ll get to that. Today… well, today is for us. She and I. Because it was on this day, fourteen years ago, that she and I had our first date. And, fortunately for all of us, she had some things to say!
Long Valley Lane. April 16th. 2012
overcast, with an 80% chance of rain
i'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
--ee cummings
…in other news,
and it may be a little bit exciting. it may be a real thing, it's too early to say that much...but what i WILL say is that i did go on an excellent first date, on friday. and farmers' market hang-out on saturday. nice guy. seriously NICE GUY. and he likes good things and has seriously amazing taste in music. and BIG BLUE EYES. and he loves Jesus and his momma. and i'ma stop, now, and letchu finish...because grown ass women don't gush over dudes on their blogs. except that sometimes this one does. and she especially does when she's had three big cups of coffee, because her allergies necessitated a BIG DOSE of benedryl, this morning, and that sometimes results in talking about herself in third person for a whole paragraph.
dear spring,
you have never looked more lovely than you look at this very moment. and even if the clouds gather, and the lights go out, and the colors run, and it all blows away, it was still worth the now.
mil besos,
rmg
Facebook. March 13th. 2015
Three years ago, I gave myself a pep-talk in the bathroom mirror. I told myself that as long as I showed up on time and didn't vomit from nerves, I could consider it a successful first date.
I love you, D.W. Jones. Thank you for being entirely yourself, and for all the ways you are you.
Facebook. April 13th. 2018
Six years ago, on a Friday the 13th, I went on a first date. I smiled so much the whole way home, my face was sore. Five houses in three states, dogs, cats, chickens, rabbits, gardens, big dreams, and so many many more smiles and laughter, there's no one in the world I'd rather hang out with on a Friday night. And all the other nights, too. D.W. Jones, you are the life in my love and the love in my life.
Long Valley Lane. April 13th 2015
eleven hundred days: a retrospective
Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much?
Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poem
--Walt Whitman
We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.
--Gwendolyn Brooks
So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.
--Paulo Coelho
we are good at a lot of things and getting better every day. one thing we are not great at is taking pictures. but i have all these snapshots stored in my brain, envelopes full of mental polaroids...
the envelope marked first date would have pictures of the teenage girls who complimented your beard on our first date (remember how long it was!), of us eating breakfast tacos at the farmers' market, of the grin i couldn't wipe off my face for days afterward.
in those earliest days, there are pictures of a flock of wild turkeys, trails in the woods, rivers we swam in or drove across, funny little diners and fancy little diners and splitting whatever chocolate thing is on the dessert menu. meeting family, meeting friends, meeting all the other people who are important for us to know--collages of cousins, kin, co-conspirators--all those faces we love and who love us. pictures of road trips--of monuments and moments, of menu screens for podcasts and menus for new things to try, stories and backstories, laughter and tears, learning something new every single second.
we have packed and cleaned and moved and cleaned and unpacked and repacked and cleaned and moved and unpacked...a lot. no photo album would be complete without a picture of us changing out the fan in our bedroom, or painting miles of walls, or brushing sawdust off of...everything, assembling boxes, sorting through what to keep and what to throw away, sharing advil and icepacks and snuggles and snores.
there would be a picture of me sleeping, and a picture of you watching your zombie shows on Saturday mornings, pictures of the dog and cat whining and hissing at each other from opposite sides of the baby gate, pictures of us making dinner in our impossibly tiny kitchen, me watching you watching football or you watching me count stitches in my latest attempt to be crafty.
all these moments, tiny snapshots...they sparkle and glitter and shine. i continue to be utterly amazed and grateful that i get to share them with my beloved.
mil besos,
rmgj
