The month of May has been endless and it isn't even over yet. Archer turns two in two days and I don't even have a gift ready. Or a card written or a post prepared. We're supposed to be having a party on Saturday and I haven't even invited anyone. I don't even know what time we'll have people over or what flavor I want for the cake.
I have been back and forth between my parent's house and Los Angeles. The 405 is my best friend and back and forth I go, slowly cruising through traffic in a car packed with bags and thought-bubbles squashed against the ceiling.
My old friend's funeral was last Saturday in the same church her mother's funeral was, six years before. Her brothers, orphaned and without a sister prepared a speech... "At least she's with our mother, now" they said and my mother and I held hands.
The last few times I attended a funeral, babies were born days after and this time, the same. Little Sage was born two days after my uncle passed away. And Nolan was born the same week Courtney died-- a reminder that humans come and go, usually passing one another on the way out through the revolving door. There is but a thin wall that separates the dying from the newly born. In the hospital and in life.
My Uncle Pete's funeral was last Thursday. My cousins spoke proudly, poised and eloquent on the podium. I sat between my brother and my husband in a room of hundreds of friends and family, standing room only, and when we all stood up to sing Edelweiss, my Uncle Pete's favorite song, I saw my father cry for the first time. And we cried with him, my siblings and mother and me all the while keeping along with the words of the song. ... Bloom and grow forever...
I'm home for now, working on a book due weeks from now and a new business with an amazing woman who I can't believe my luck, found me. I have been sleeping very little, trying to organize my head and my heart and days that are far too short for weeks so long. Shh... Just breathe. One day at a time...
Thursday we go back to my parent's house for the third time this month, and then from there, I fly out to Tennessee to spend some time with my lovely friend, picking strawberries and seeing Graceland and fluttering around the south like butterflies. Cowboy boots packed and ready for dancing.
And phew! I'm out of breath.
The fire has stopped burning, and overhead there are clouds. The sun is disappearing and the sky is gray and dark and we're under blankets on the couch. I was afraid our park burned down but it was saved. The playground still stands. There is so much to be grateful for.
For some, the early June gloom is depressing, but not to me. I always loved this weather, the darkness and the chill and the gray.
Sunshine can be overrated and birthday cakes are just as good out of the box as made from scratch and June will be here soon enough. Just around the corner in fact.
Now isn't that reason enough to tip our glasses? I think, yes, it surely must be.