“Connected by a silver cord that hums with sadness
the further it is stretched.”
~ StoryPeople
i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you
my silence is wrecking me. i have no words and so “i love you” is all i say. all i think. to the girl behind the counter. the man behind the steering wheel. to the ex and his girlfriend who mothers my son. to the mean kids in school. to the mothers and fathers everywhere. to the children screaming hate and hurt. “i love you” is all i think, all that matters. everyone somewhere is hurting. everyone somewhere is acting out of fear, everyone somewhere is slowly losing someone they love, everyone somewhere is learning their coping mechanisms and just trying to get through the day. everyone everywhere is just wanting to be loved. and so “i love you” is all i can do.
my business-like mind in handling matters of high family emotion is twisting my spine into something unrecognizeable. i don’t know how i am actually making progress, moving forward, other than to simply put one foot infront of another. then another. then another.
step. step. shuffle. trudge. shuffle.
last year? last year life was a trip in the blender.
this year? this year life is a spooky dark woods and i’m a scared little kid.
and there are no words yet, other than i love you. no words of prognosis no words of what life looks like down the road. there are no words yet in this place of wait and worry and wait some more. there are no words other than i love you, while trying to plan your life around something so blurry as dementia.
remember all that talk about juggling? letting the balls drop? yeah, that’s bullshit. that was me in a good place. the truth is that this is the mouse wheel, the dizzymaker, the nauseator. this is the egg cracking, the paper thin membrane unable to hold the goo. and if you drop those balls you’re gonna crack wide open and splatter on those standing nearby. at that point you’ll be of no use to anyone. so hold it together. be strong. say i love you until you cry.
this is nine days away from our longest separation ever. two planes in two different directions. this is christmas and worry and missing and mothers and sons being reunited only ten days later.
this is nine days away from my mother my mother my mother. the longing for what can’t be and the missing for something that was lost in transition. i never got to say goodbye and so i say i love you.
what my dad has told me since birth holds true.
“nothing is forever”
“life is not fair”
“be good”
and so i find it strange
his answer, “yup”
to the only thing worth saying,
“i love you.”
i love you.
i do.
Ohgawd.
Nine days. That seems like forever.
I’ll be around all of December, so if you want to talk, grab coffee, go out for drinks, whatevah – let me know.
I start my “free” weekends in January, and I don’t imagine fun, not at first. I imagine crying, and having no one to say I love you to, aside from the phone.
god, this is gorgeous
the picture, the words.
have strength. i am thinking of you (even though i don’t know you)!
xo
for no words these words are beautiful
how you can describe your feelings so perfectly is beyond me! So sorry for this storm that’s been passing over your life the last few years mere – it’s pretty incredible. This post brought me to tears. I would collapse under all of it. You are so very strong. My love to you this holiday season and a wish for nothing but sunny days once this hurricane diminishes.
oh, wow. if i knew where, i’d send you some chocolate. that’s my lifeline, and the one thing i could share with some of my sliding elders. i fantasized about breaking plates (we’re talking 5 females here, so there were ample supplies), but knew i wouldn’t have time or energy or assistance cleaning up the mess.
Heartbreaking beautiful!
(Hugs) I love you dear friend. You ARE loved. Indigo
Meredith,
I have meant to post sooner. Your writing grips me. I am located in Boston, MA. It would be a pleasure to correspond with you. My email address is patriciadolan@comcast.net
Please know that I am keeping you close to my heart along with your son, River.
Trish
I read this the other day on my iphone and having been meaning to get back to post. I love reading your words. They inspire me, make me cry, make me laugh, stirring up all kind of emotions. I just keep reading but do not always say much but I wanted you to know that I do read and I love your blog, your words are so beautiful. Now go write a book already! =]
this is the first of your posts I’ve ever read and now I have to go back and discover what brought you to this fragile place…i am intrigued…and awed by your strength within this clearly fragile place in your life….I will back track tomorrow, it’s late now.
so glad I blog hopped on by,
gentle steps,
laura
Such beauty in three little words. The pure honesty of this post made me cry. Beautiful!!!!
You left me speechless because in your words I found exactly how I’ve felt since losing my mother, my best friend to cancer while at the same time going through the most difficult times I can imagine in my marriage..walking the cliffs edge trying to hold it all together terrified that any minute that one strong gust of wind could come and take you over and you might never recover..absolutely beautiful!!!! You are a gift! Keep moving forward and feeling what you need to feel…its all okay and its all exactly where you need to be.
What a beautiful post Meredith. Somehow your father’s answer to the most profound statement is in itself a revealing. Thank you for your words.
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