Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Weighted Ice


The midwest is shrouded in snow, ice, and slush today. Trees have snapped off their tops. Power lines have fallen. There is a heavy gloom all around. It seems fitting.


For a long while now, I've been feeling centered, feeling 'high', feeling inspired. When I'm in that place I wonder why others can't 'feel the love' and join me there. I wonder why people let the little things bother them. I share my wisdom like I have it all figured out.


Unfortunately the pendulum's pattern of my life shows me that after each high there must be its accompanying low. And there's where I find myself today.


It started with the day when Rob and I sniped at each other the way old, married couples, who've never found a way out of the ruts, do. It continued with an even worse day on Saturday, despite my 'lessons noted' if not learned. Edgy, edgy, edgy, trying not to spill it but it brims over anyhow. And it carried on yesterday when I got a bee in my bonnet (more like a bug up my *ss) and spent all morning cleaning our disgusting garage, then cleaned the house, then rearranged the furniture, got the tree, made dinner, put up decorations, and fell into bed, exhausted. It was one of those 'keep moving' sort of edgy days.


So I wasn't entirely surprised to wake today and find I'm edgier than ever. School was called off but I couldn't find it within myself to make it a fun day. I couldn't think of one d*mn thing to do; I knew I was going to let the day pass with no fanfare. And then mom called.


My grandmother died.


This was not entirely unexpected; she's been failing for a while. And she was 95. But, still... it's my grandma, and she's always been here, and she's always bounced back; was always the tough one. And when I cried, I'm a bit ashamed to say the tears were mostly a release of all the buried grief for my father.

I get a bit wacky when I grieve these days. My answer to the edginess I felt was to make a Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings. For no good reason. I had to slog through ice and slush in a barren, shut-down countryside to get a few ingredients. I gave dirty looks to other shoppers because I was feeling surly. I cooked and cooked and took out my angst on the mashed potatoes. I didn't heed the messages of the lost measuring spoons or the the spilled bottle of safflower oil or the vase that shattered on the counter. I kept cooking. We had turkey dinner, d*mn it.

This is when I hope-hope-hope there's some sort of next stage, because I'm pretty sure my grandma really needs to see her son.



And I'm pretty sure she needs to see her husband, who died over 50 years ago, leaving her with a farm and three kids to care for.

And I'm pretty sure she needs to give him a stiff upper-cut to the jaw right after their reunion kiss.

We've asked her to give dad one too.

After the hug and kiss, of course.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hug.

K. said...

I'm not surprised that the tears came for your father - but then I do that sort of storing up thing anyway. Maybe it's a Mom thing, we don't always have the luxury of crying when it hits us, especially when our kids were younger. So when we cry, we cry about everything we have to cry about all at the same time. But also, I think losing someone makes you remember everyone else that you've lost. I didn't truly grieve my older brother's death until my father died. Then I cried for the loss of both, and I cried because if David were alive I would have had someone to talk to who understood about Dad, and I cried because I was glad David now has Dad but jealous that he took him, too.

Love and tears, they all sort of mix together and melt into each other, I think. And I think your Grandma would understand, and knows which tears belong to her.

I stress bake. Shane knows when it's been a particularly bad day inside my head because it's the only time I pull out the breadmaker.

I'm so sorry for your loss, Laura.

kelli said...

aw, Laura, hugs to you.

Anonymous said...

During our visit to LA, my aunt insisted on a turkey dinner and she is going through some heavy shit. When you are so tired and wrung out, might as well stuff a bird. I am sending you love...

hahamommy said...

::::bow to the jedi::::
you felt the disturbance in the force, even if you interpreted it as Rob, it was Gramma being welcomed. Musta been the fanfare, maybe the *remembering* part of your soul was jealous of the reunion at hand and it came out as "snipey-must-clean-so-I
-don't-kill-anyone"
see an easy explanation, just give me some suspended disbelief for a moment :)
And *YAY* Hannah gets a new gramma for Christmas!! <3

EC said...

hugs to you, Laura!

Silvia said...

I somehow missed this post. I didn't realize your grandma had died. I'm sorry. It's never a "good" time of year, but around the holidays everyone's emotions are a bit closer to the surface.
I still miss my grandmothers, especially the one whom we lived next door to for several years. She really accepted us as we were and that's so important to a child.