Que Sera Sara?

Beginnings

Posted by smgrady on February 15, 2014 · 2 Comments 

Hello, internet.

I’ve been remiss. Again.

I am finding words hard this winter. Like I’ve lost them in the snow eddies which never cease.

It is not the cold silence of depression or the hollow quiet of grief. Just a neutral, white Wordless.

I sometimes wonder if all this waiting has me tongue-tied. Comatized.

Mind-numbed from the constant repetitions to ourselves and our loved ones

“it’s going to be okay”

we’ll figure it out”

“it’ll all be fine”

One of these days I’ll upload photos of our cake-baking masterclass weekend and the beautiful crystal-blue ice sculptures forming on the lake. I’ll remind myself of apple orchards and dogs and all our long walks in Narnia-esque woodlands.

Right now I’ve forgotten what’s worth saying, I guess.

Not to worry, though. I’m rather content.

The racing thoughts and uncertain futures keep me company in the dark, and Bean has been a miracle of unyielding support and kindness.

In lieu of clever things, here are some headlines:

After 18 months of waiting and paperwork, Bean’s greencard has arrived. It feels both final and intermediary. It is exciting and leaves a gaping hole of now what?

I took a job at the new year. It is many things I’ve done before and been good at, plus some new challenges and an entirely different working culture. I have lots of mixed feelings about it daily, which is exhausting. But working through them feels fruitful. A step forward in calling my life my own.

We’re toying with the idea of moving to the East Coast. It needs some reconnaissance since neither of us has ever been there, but it sounds nice.

We are spending the weekend up at the cottage for the first time in months. It’s nice to return to a quiet spot of our own and tramp in snow drifts, boot-skate down icy slopes and say goodbye to somewhere we both cherish.

Next week we both have birthdays, but we’ve put off our planned adventure to Canada (a greencard means my alien spouse can now cross borders unmolested!). In the spring, we hope.

And all of this moaning baloney belies the unfathomable support of our insane, nerve-wracking, loving and compassionate families. I may slowly be going crazy, but one thing is certain: it’s no one’s fault but my own.

It is especially amazing how kind and supportive our parents have been. The crumbling of my pride in the face of  financial uncertainly and professional ennui can hardly hold a candle to having house guests for an indeterminate period now racking up months. I can’t even imagine (and if I’m honest, I shudder at the thought).

So in a week of love and ever-increasing light, as I turn another year older and our next chapter begins, I am grateful for those who tolerate my madness and blessed to be surrounded by a universe of generosity.

May I grow to deserve it and reflect such goodness all the days hereafter.