Monday, November 5, 2007

The wind is blowing and the house is creaking and moaning. A cold front is moving in. The kind of night that makes you want to know exactly where the children are. Nick and Alex are with their Dad. Joseph is not here. Not anymore. He lays in a scout uniform 30 miles away and 6 feet underground. He resides with God. Is there wind in heaven? Is there anything to creak and moan in contrast to the warm tranquility within a secure dwelling? Does it get chilly enough to light a fireplace? And if not, would anyone want to be there? All is perfect in heaven...being cold is a kind of suffering. And we do not crave suffering, but the remedy of it. And its remedy is the stuff of gratitude. And gratitude is the stuff of happiness. A circular conundrum. I would not want him to be in an eerily winded place in which the temperature were dropping and walls making noise around him. Not without me. Not without his mother. It is a kind of ego I suppose. A child needs his mother to feel truly safe. I fear he can't feel truly safe in heaven. Again, a lack of faith that claims me so easily. I shall never be a soul worth emulating. I am too full of doubt and fear. I see a paternal God in my mind sometimes shaking his head silently, not in denial but more in dismissal for all I cannot know or understand. A child asking why the sky is blue and who thought up the color green.

I talked to two old friends tonight, both who have known me for over 10 years and both who know me very well. It was strange to hear them interact with me, as if I were the same old Sheri. It was like watching myself through a looking glass or a tunnel of some sort. I could see myself as they see me in those moments, this whole person with whom they have a history. And yet I could feel myself in my body, so disjointed and disconnected, talking individually to two people whom I love very much and looking at the conjoined history with no sense of ownership. It all gets broken down into before and after. Before Joseph got sick. After Joseph died. I wanted to cling to them, this lifeline of a girl who used to have so much laughter and passion for life. I am still her I am sure. But at times she feels so foreign and separate, like a happy suit I put on to mask the small, uncertain, frightened Sheri inside. Talking with them made me realize I do have a whole history, much of which did not involve Joseph at all. I existed before him. I have to learn to exist after.

I had belly dance tonight.. our instructor video taped us last week and then showed us the result today with her critique. Um. Ew. I looked just terrible. I have been doing well with eating right but seeing that tonight was even more motivating.

No comments: