Wednesday, February 15, 2017

100 days of 100 words, day 13: bargaining

Bargaining


If bargaining is a stage of grief, I have been stuck there for 30+ years.  Like bargaining in relation to the finality of death, mine involves impossibilities.  I'll accept my growing blindness if my eyes are a prettier color--say the shade of green my siblings got.  Or:  Okay, I'm carrying a few extra pounds.  I just want them to be there instead of here.  There's always a balance in these mental machinations, as in a carefully calibrated mobile.  But it's preposterous!  What am I grieving?  Being born in this body?  As opposed to what?  Get to acceptance already!

Saturday, February 4, 2017

100 days of 100 words, day 12: a light mood

A Light Mood

When the boys were newborns, Keith asked a friend, a renowned child development specialist, if she could distil her years of research and observation into one piece of advice for us.  She said the most important thing is "a light mood in the home."

When the boys leave the dinner table because they are doubled over with laughter, or say things like, "in this family, we get strong abs from laughing," I feel like I am winning as a parent.  When I think of the mood in the home where I grew up, I feel like a fucking miracle.

Thursday, February 2, 2017

100 days of 100 words, day 11: dead bodies

Dead Bodies


I have carried two beloved pets to burial, wind-fluttered fur causing irrational hope which the dirt quashed.

My friend Greg wasn't embalmed or officially 'prepared.'  His mouth sat slightly ajar as if he were about to speak.  I spent hours in the room with his body and his people, until I knew in my body that he was no longer in his.

I saw my brother in a casket after he had been 'prepared' for viewing  His mouth was sewn shut, eyes glued down.  I rumpled his hair.  He wouldn't be roused.  I couldn't believe it.  Still can't.