Bittersweet

I told myself that I wouldn't write anything again until I could write something positive. I have so much to be happy about that it should be pouring out of every vessel of self expression. However, I just haven't felt like putting on my happy pants. I finally realized that I can get close though...

I just got back from an *a-ma-zing* women's retreat. I listened to the fabulous Shauna Neiquist speak, encourage, read and lead. I'm currently tearing through her book, Bittersweet, which is largely about being thankful, open, strong, determined and growing during times of suffering. Obviously she wrote this book for me, although she forgot to dedicate it to me. We can all read between the lines, though. Well the word bittersweet won't leave me alone. I'm seeing it everywhere. Bittersweet. Bitter. Sweet. Bittersweet. Why do oxymorons such as this even exist? Why do they have to go together? Dare I even ask?

Bitter is harsh, sharp, disagreeable, unpleasant. I'd like to do without that, please. Sweet, however, sure. I like sweet's unelaborate definition: not bitter. Oh, well that sounds wonderful. Why must we mix them? The answer is simple...so that we truly appreciate what is sweet. We often forget that. Or at least I do. I get it, but I forget it. Maybe it's just that I flat out ignore it. All worthwhile experiences in my life are bittersweet. Marriage is love, companionship, holding hands, feeling giddy, waking up with your soulmate. Marriage is also him leaving his shoes right there, watching Pawn Stars, and compromising when you clearly know you are always the right one. A little bittersweet I'd say. Motherhood is sweet kisses, hearing 'Mommy', seeing your eyes in another person. It is also losing sleep, runny noses, stepping on Matchbox cars, and being thrown up on or just having something thrown at you. Definitely bittersweet. Death is loss, pain, emptiness, stinging reality, finality. It also means that if you feel that, you felt love. What is more bittersweet than that? If you can see through the veil that is pain that the bitter brings for just a moment, the sweet is oh-so-wonderful. It's not just chocolate cake. It's chocolate cake that you made with your own hands and baked to perfection. The best kind.

I've decided that life is like the coffee I drink each morning. Straight up it is not at all comforting. It's disgusting. With too much creamer, I don't likely pick it up again; it's just not that enjoyable. When I find the perfect mix...the bitter coffee sweetened just enough....well that's what makes me get out of bed. I just have to trust that each day will have the due balance of each. When the day seems a little too much, I will reach out. Bittersweet. Thanks for reminding me of this, Shauna.

Fall-ing

So much of what makes me happy is wrapped up in the word "fall". I love the crisp, cool air in the mornings. I love the baking, the changing leaves, setting up decorations, and picking out sweaters. I spend three other seasons of the year patiently waiting for this one. There is this slow dwindling of daylight outside of my window each night now and I can see my trees swaying gently. Everyone I know is buzzing about the fact that it is actually going to be jacket weather this weekend. Fall is definitely here.

Right now, my life is definitely wrapped up in fall, but one of a different sort. The kind of fall that doesn't bring comfort. The kind of fall with bitter cold and stinging reality. The fall with sorrow attached. This one, too, brings change, but it is of course unwanted. My phone rang with the label "Mom" again today. For a brief second my heart leaped, but it was reminded of the truth and fell. When I try to understand why or grasp on to something, I can't...I just fall. The term 'falling' refers to a sensation. The term 'sensation' refers to a feeling. A 'feeling' is an awareness. If you are aware, informed, knowledgeable, you should be able to move up, not down. It just isn't so right now.

When my little guy, Graham, sees me crying, he tells me not to because Nana is still at the "little white house". In his reality, there's no need to be upset when you haven't lost anything. His reference to the funeral home may be inaccurate, but he is once again correct that you can't lose what's in your heart. This weekend, for the cooler weather, I plan on making my mom's caramel pecan cinnamon rolls with my sister. My mother made them every autumn. I vividly remember the morning I was in seventh grade and my mom woke us up to tell us there was a fall coolness in the air and she had made us the caramel pecan cinnamon rolls to celebrate it. Of course, they take a couple of hours to make so she had been up quite a while. That's in my heart along with so much more, so even though I'm falling, I know I can see the season through.