To fall in love with me
is to say I love you and I see you to every piece of me.
I will never leave you,
you’re my priority.
It means fresh flowers around the house;
anything the color green.
Lots of trees.
With anxiety; unending compassion and reassurance.
With anger; validation and love.
With excitement; permission.
Go easy on me when the laundry piles up.
Time to read.
Time to write.
Time to play barefoot outside.
Connect with people I feel connected to.
Push me to walk when I want to run;
and the opposite too.
Enjoy Ryan-love, family-laughs and kid-kisses in the magical now.
This is a falling-in-love list for me.
How do you fall in love with you?
*Jordan and I came up with this fun idea when we were working through The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.
We went through your old things;
report cards, photo books, trophies, letters.
When you were 19 you noted that having an exciting life was a 1 of importance to you (18 being the least). I’d say it definitely wasn’t boring.
Did you have any big ragrets?
Not even a single letter?
The back house smells of 24 and World Cup parties.
We’re not with you, but here with all of your things. What stories did you have to add? What happened with Lisa from sophomore year? Did you in fact have a bitchen summer?
This Father’s Day felt a little lighter. Family felt a little stronger. Your memories felt a little happier.
Though grief doesn’t really know the calendar. I wonder if tomorrow I’ll feel desperately sad.
I wanted more of you and couldn’t stop standing in the back house trying to feel and hear you. True father-daughter love is keeping my Cinque Terre painting on the wall all those years.
Mom was about to say something inappropriate at Papa’s house and I smacked her leg under the table and she yelped, “Okay Jeff!!!”
Honoring you at home and at bat. Remember how every time we missed the ball you’d say, “My bad that was a bad pitch.”
Thank you for holding our hearts and characters with unconditional positive regard (Cheryl Strayed’s phrase). I hope my kids see me the way I see you. I hope they feel as safe with me as I did with you.
We’re older now. Grief and motherhood haven’t exactly been anti-aging for me. Maisley just turned 16 and Coura walks, talks and surprise, surprise is a strong willed wildling.
What hasn’t changed – the love I carry for you in every cell of my body. The way missing you has become a way of life. How I still lean into your affirming side hugs. I’d truly give up everything I own to spend a minute with you on your worst day.
I love you Dadio. I hope it feels like glass on Bass Lake every day where you are.
Don’t you know how hard I’ve been worrying on this project?
I worry so hard.
I worry overtime.
Late at night, in the morning, sometimes all through the day.
I’m worrying so much harder than all of you.
Where is my praise?
Where is my validation and compensation for all of the worry I’ve been doing?
I have an inkling that my worry isn’t appreciated here.
Fine by me.
I’m just going to stop worrying.
waves of grief
surges of birth
that feeling of panic
like river rapids
will it ever end?
it always ends.