Lizabean

 

"My biam", September 2009

I've have been cooking up a storm these days.  If you are ever in the area and need a bite to eat, I can guarantee you something warm and soup-like.  There are always plenty of leftovers.  I have a friend who is well over 40 weeks  pregnant, and I am gearing up to feed that family some surprise meals a couple times a week once that whee one decides to finally make her (...or his) arrival!

I am also a lonely little bit of mess during the work week and ,I swear, cooking has kept me from toppling over into a heap of "whoa is me!  poor unlovable liza!  i'm alone for a good reason!  i will be alone FOREVER!!".  There are those occasional pity party moments, for sure, and I chalk it up to my current situation and our culture's current trend of very isolating 'community' living.  But not to me.....mostly.  Lil' life targets...eventually...involve hiring a babysitter once a week, signing up for some photo group,  and hosting a bookclub in my home.  

Not only have I been cooking like crazy, I have been cooking. from. scratch!  Holy crap.  Two years ago it was way too much energy to even think about opening a can of soup and heating it up for dinner (sadly not joking...).  I am slowing giving up things processed...one recipe at a time.  And I thank Julie and Julia for the inspiration to embark on a cooking challenge. 

This week I bought two pounds of organic parsnips and plan on making something close to delicious.  Should be interesting!

Sometimes I feel like I am living in a parallel universe from my former life and existence.  A few days shy of Thanksgiving, 10 months ago, I felt tossed into an abyss.  Flailing, grasping at empty spaces, spiraling downward, upward, all around.  And then, I landed.  And so, here I am. 

And while I am grateful for the changes I have seen grow within me, I can't help but feel, even still, like I am living a life that isn't quite mine.  There are moments when my new world and old world collide, and I am left confused and slightly teased by that alluding idea of a  "nuclear family". 

So, while I feel stronger than I have ever felt, EVER,  there are moments when the grief hits so hard I can't move.  I think of my wedding day and am absolutely shocked that I am here ...and that life?  It's elsewhere.  It doesn't feel gone.  It's just feels like I am no longer living it.  Like if I could only wake up or jump higher or ....I don't know.  I guess it's the "could have been". 

Memories, especially the beautiful, most joyous of moments,  are what haunt me in the late night hours and in the many moments of vulnerability I experience.  I look forward to the day when I can value those memories without the tinge of this current grief.  When the path that I am on, feels like the one I want to be living.  Each day brings me closer, that I feel, and that is the hope I hold on to...furiously.

 

"I see what I see", mid-August 2009