06 February 2013

I-me

Flurries today, little snowflakes flying in all directions, sunshine one moment, clouds the next... but it is warmer all of a sudden, and there is just the faintest breath of wind.

I feel like I have my feet more underneath me today- feel more gathered up than broken down.

I know so many of us have written about this, how new grief so often brings up old grief, and sadness begets sadness. It is easy to get lost in it. Undertow.

Instead of resisting this time, or pathologically searching around for pockets of unhealed hurt to poke, I just leaned into it with compassion, yes, I said, yes, I know, I know. This *does* suck. That did suck. There is pain and there was pain.

And for once, the knots loosened instead of tightening.

I am an avoider of pain. I hate pain. I know, most of us are.
I am an avoider of things I do not want to be true.
I have no peace with the fact of loss. Except, maybe, this time. This time there was something to feel peaceful about, a bigger loving over arching something that said, no more suffering.
And this is as true as I can know it to be.

***

Now I want to write about Della for a moment, how she refers to herself as I-me.

I-me
I-me do it.

Covers a lot of bases.

She is into big time possession mode-- things are hers, not to be shared, and sadly missed when gone. These things include things at daycare so it is more than awkward.

She is dreaming now, and tells us her dreams sometimes.

When she wakes, she often says things about the previous day as if we are in mid-conversation.

Yes, we are still co sleeping.

Yes we are still nursing. Weaning will happen when we're ready, or when one of us is. And right now, we just aren't.

She is magnificent.  She is fierce and determined and funny and bossy and tender.
Nice boots mom!
Good job dad!
She pats me and my heart melts.

I cannot believe her immensity ever wasn't here, being, visible.

Today in my new groundedness, I am able to look up and see the snow falling down, in no way linear, back and forth, crisscrossing, meandering, no rush....
and am trying very hard to imagine embodying that kind of non-effort, even for a little while.



1 comment:

babyinterrupted said...

My girl often says, "I do it MY OWN SELF," which is definitely a part of the ownership thing you are talking about. But also makes me happy, that somehow she has a sense that she belongs to herself. Hang onto it, kiddo.