I have you.

"All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one's heart have a common provenance in pain. Their birth in grief and ashes. So, he whispered to the sleeping boy, I have you." ~The Road, Cormac McCarthy

Some time ago I read The Road. I can say definitively that it is my favorite book. It is heavy, painful, and beautiful. I cried, out of fear, knowing that what is worth having and loving is paired with a weight of sorrow. And I didn't want that. The quote above is one that I will always reference when people ask 'what The Road is about.' It was a quote that cut to the heart of me. I knew it was true and I wanted to run from it.

Can my Ella really be almost a year old? All of those fears and uncertainties from the past seem so selfish, ridiculous, and far away tonight as I rock my very big girl to sleep. How can something so good ache so much. Because these are moments of grace and beauty that I hold to my heart. They are born out of so very many things, and the shadow of grief, the memory of ashes, and the haunt of pain loom just outside of the picture.

So, I whisper to my Ella as I lay her down in her crib tonight, I have you.

Addiction

Gav and I are, no pun intended, addicted, to the show Intervention, on A&E. This is a heart-wrenching show that follows addicts through their daily lives, tells the stories of their family members, ends with an intervention, and, hopefully, their journey to recovery.

You see people suffocated by their addiction, drowning themselves in order to keep from knowing themselves. The thing that has stunned me in watching each story is to see the spiritual side of each person's struggle--the war being waged against us humans, the bearers of the Image.

Let me explain myself more fully. It is unbelievable to see individuals using drugs that 'should' have killed them at any point: addictions to PCP (Miriam, a sexual abuse survivor) or inhalants; drugs that regularly kill users after any one-time use. It is unbelievable to hear an alcoholic (Adam, an Iraqi War vet) speak of vomiting blood, bleeding from the nose or eyes, and registering fatal blood-alcohol levels at his most recent hospital visit. It is heart-wrenching to see bodies emaciated, crippled, and scarred, families torn apart, and the sins of the father taking up residence his children. It is paralyzing to see how effectively this method of warfare works for The Enemy. It is enraging to realize how much we are hated and pursued in this war.

And yet, in the midst of each horrific story, it is incredible and impossible not to think a litany of things: 1) "If it is worth 'this much' to keep these individuals out of commission, how much must they have to offer, how much power must their story carry, how much impact could they have on the world, how much damage could they inflict on The Enemy's camp?," 2) "There is a 'reason' they are still alive. Their life, their journey was not an accident, and was not a mistake. They are a miracle.," and 3) "Mustn't the same be true of every one of us, addict or not, each having chosen a different pain-management technique."

Have you been an addict? Are you one? Lived with one? Been abused by one?



If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world. - C.S. Lewis

Fear.

I have been strangled by fear. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Fear of anger. Fear of happiness. Fear of love. Fear of loving too much. Fear of age. Fear of addiction. I am feeling sad these days, and I've been trying to process my journey and encourage myself.

So, I love watching So You Think You Can Dance. I love watching people live the dream that I knew could never be mine. I love feeling the beauty that the body can create. I love making fun of the ridiculous routines or comments with Gavin. I love that he talks about dance from an athlete's perspective and we have fun conversations throughout the whole show. And, perhaps most of all, I love being surprised and moved when I am just expecting to have some brainless TV time. This piece was part of last season, and I watched it maybe 30 times, cried every time, and still cry as I watch it now.



It also has definitely been part of my journey about discovering what is 'safe' to share with my mom, and a realization that she has no way of knowing how to 'know' or discover the adult, real me. I showed this to her, sharing that it was one of my favorites.

"I didn't like when he grabs her throat."

That was it. That was the entirety of her response.

Fear grabbing the woman's throat may have been my 'favorite' part. How often are we unaware of that happening on a daily basis? How meaningful is the ability to pin fear down if we haven't felt its grip? I thought it was a beautiful and painful depiction.

I was surprised by how hurt I was by her reaction. Now, I understand that for many people, dance is boring, literal, and linear. So, maybe that's where she was coming from. But, it still hurt.

I hope you enjoy one of my favorite routines. Maybe it will help you know me a little better.

In Search of Summer: Nana and Papa's

My parents still live in the only house that I have ever known as home. Of course, that is until now, with my own family, and my own home. But that childhood home still bears a wordless weight that carries the memories of a swing-set no longer there, Anne of Green Gables read through a 6th grade summer, curfews, and crying over old boyfriends. It was wonderful. Nana and Papa took Ella duty, and I got to sleep in (8 o'clock...I never knew that could be sleeping in...), read a book, sit in the sun, and watch my daughter enjoy the air that raised me.

I love my mom and dad. They are special people with a laid-back style of 'sitting-without-talking-or-really-interacting-in-any-way-at-all' that drives my husband crazy, and makes me feel right at home. I hope Ella gets many more summer days spent with Nana and Papa.

And no visit home is complete without a good dose of Owen. The best, and original, cat.

Letting Go

I feel like I am at the end of a journey I never began. With all of my indecisiveness, fear, and avoidance, I have dreamed many dreams, and lived very few of them. My classes begin tomorrow, and as I decide against taking the lab for one, I realize that my always-thrown-around idea of going to med school really needs to take flight and find a new dreamer. As I head in this new direction, toward nursing, I need to be realistic, driven, and visionary; not halted by regrets or stagnant indecision.

In Search of Summer: Swimming!

Here in Arizona, summer arrived long ago!










What I love about the daily father-daughter swim:

• Ella's shrieks of joy.
• How proud Ella and dad are of blowing bubbles.
• Ella's cute little tukus.
• The pull-ups Ella does on the side of the pool.
• Basking in the fun of watching of watching my husband be a super great dad.

In Search of Summer: My New Motto

A clean house is a sign of a wasted life.

Disclaimer:
This motto does not mean that I have an unsanitary house. It is usually germ free. For the most part. Okay, maybe just sometimes...

Mary, I'm still waiting on the embroidered items to arrive in your shop! :)