Dry Rain

My hands are dry. Its pouring outside. I've got juxtapositions on my mind.

There are so many flowers and living things in the house, there are constant visitors stopping by, so much living is happening in the house right now. And on all our minds is death. It doesn't mean any of us, my dad especially, is giving up. He keeps saying, "I'm going to take a couple of whacks at this." Yet, its what we're all thinking about. Its what makes people come into the house and fill it with love and support and life. Its what makes us feel like life is actually happening around us.

When everything is good, when there isn't anything serious to focus on I find that life just flies by, it just keeps moving and you keep moving with it... there isn't anything to make you stop and look around.

Cancer makes you stop and look around. I really think about each day as I'm living it. Sometimes I don't want the days to end because it means another day has moved on. I think the days move a bit more slowly now too, because I'm very focused on their movement, I see each hour pass. I think about each moment I'm in and how it relates to the next. Especially being home this weekend, timing is everything. When was the last dose of pain medications? When was the last time we ate? When are the good shows/games/movies on to watch? When do I have to leave? Not yet. Right now I need to get some hand cream.

When

When he pulls me in tightly and wraps his arms around me. When I'm laying on his chest and feel his heart beating. When I fall asleep leaning on his stomach. When I hug him from behind and his back feels strong and warm. When I'm touching the inner part of his arms and their softness calms me.

That's where I'm safe. That's when I feel secure.

When I cry, he holds me.

And I'm reminded of how safe I am, I'm reminded of the security he provides.

Waves

I can't take credit for the terminology, but it is so fitting I have to use it. The sadness, the fear, the overwhelming anxiety, it washes into you like a tide coming in pushed hard by waves. It all becomes a wave washing over you.

I was sitting in the tower room watching House Hunters wrapped up in the Boys arms last night, who could want to be anywhere else, and a wave came in. I lost focus and could only imagine the loss, the uncertainty, the question that is lingering over all of us. That Suzanne Wang was bringing us back to a young couples house hunt, and Matt's arms were holding me tightly didn't matter. All that mattered was my Dad has cancer. It was a pretty big wave. And just like that (what is that phrase anyway, is there a better way to transition?) the tide went out, and I was satisfied to be watching House Hunters on a couch with the Boy. Doesn't mean its not coming back in.

Sammy, Rachel, Matt and I went and did errands this morning; it feels so good to be productive right now. We were driving back from the seacoast with the windows down and the sun coming in. Sigur Ros was playing, and unfortunately I can't stream it through the blog but if you can find a song and listen you'll understand. We were all quiet, watching the road ahead, listening to the mellowed music, the sun warming our heads and the breeze softening the glare. I think a wave was washing into all of us. And we all had to let the tide come and wait for it to start heading back out. I asked for a music change as mine receded and everyone nodded in agreement. These moments are going to keep hitting, I know. My Mom says it may become easier to function during them, to not have to stop everything.

I sit on the porch writing this. The sun is setting behind clouds in front of me, my feet peeking above the laptop screen perched on the railing. I feel connected to the green fields that roll in front of me and the chirping of the birds around me. I feel good, I feel at peace. But I can't stay here. My feet are starting to get cold, and the hairs on my arms are raised. And a wave may be on the horizon.

The Sweet Smell Of...

As a kid we'd play the "if you had to lose one sense what would it be?" game. I'm sure I changed my answer each time.

If I had to play it now, I wouldn't choose my sense of smell. Sure it can take you places you would never ever want to go, like to the brink of vomiting. Yet, for all the times it brings me pleasure and all the memories it helps to return, I think its all worth it.

I was walking back to my apartment one afternoon when I was transfixed by the smell of laundry. It was incredibly fragrant and pure. I immediately wanted to stop and just smell it, perhaps close my eyes and sit down to really take it in. In all honesty and with all cheesiness aside, it made me happy. I literally had a bounce in my step as I continued the walk and then craved the smell later in the day. I thought about searching Yankee Candle for their clean laundry smell, but realized it wouldn't be the same. As much as I love candles and scents, none of them ever compare to the actual.

When the Boy and I were in the first and second years of our relationship, and struggling with long distance, I would keep a shirt of his tucked under my pillow to smell. I would make him wear one shirt constantly during our visits, and then hold onto it when he left, literally. He doesn't wear cologne or deodorant, so it wasn't an artificial smell. Just him, his pure smell. My brother thought it was gross, would make fun of me for wearing the shirt to bed, "Eww, you smell like a boy." I didn't care, because it kept me closer to him, the smell comforted me. Recently he surprised me with a visit. He was waiting in my bedroom, the lights were off, he stood behind the door to hide and as I tried to open it and felt resistance I was at first scared and confused, but then I smelled him and was immediately relieved and excited.

I'd never want to lose the memories of those moments, or any of the moments I've connected to smells. Like muffins baking on a spring weekend morning, or the turkey roasting on Thanksgiving, or garlic sautéing for a dinner party.

And, going back to the game, I honestly don't think I could choose a sense to give up.

Crocuses

Spring is a time for change, rebirth, and renewal. It’s quite lovely. I love walking to Davis Sq. and seeing all the crocuses starting to bloom. The green stems pushing through the now warming soil, a sign of all the green that will follow and I'm green with envy. I love spring, I love all it represents. But... I don't feel any change coming. I don't feel any kind of rejuvenation; nothing is blossoming inside of me. I'm here, I'm happy, I've got good things going on... and yet nothing big is coming this season and I wish it were. Outside of the Pine St. Inn this morning, I saw a homeless man holding up a small red mirror for a homeless woman who was applying make up. I think she saw something big coming, was getting ready for the spring blossoming in her. I guess seeing that, sharing in that will tide me over for now.

A Spring State of Mind

I just switched over to a screen in one of my bedroom windows, so I could let the Spring air in. I'm so glad its finally here. This is the day I love- the day when it really truly feels like Spring is coming. The day they predicted would be gloomy and bring thunderstorms- not spring thunderstorms, spring isn't here yet thunderstorms- is sunny, with clouds yes- but springy clouds, and warm and the breeze it is just so Spring.

Tomorrow we change the clocks- spring forward. I don't enjoy losing an hour of sleep in the morning, but gaining that extra hour of light is magnificent. When it started to stay light for my drive home from work I was happy, but now I can go to the gym, stop and get dinner and it will still be light when I drive home. That is Spring.

Its still cool in my apartment, the sun hasn't fully seeped in yet, I think it will take a couple more weeks for it to warm up. But when I come home from walks hot from the weather, I can still cool off here. I know I'll be complaining about it being hot in my apartment in a couple of months, so I suppose I can enjoy the coolness now.

Everyone is out doors. I walked through Porter Square yesterday and everyone was outdoors. People are walking down my normally quiet street, they're sitting on sidewalks chatting, talking on porches as their children play on bikes. The postman is even wearing shorts. Guys are tuning up their bikes. Its SPRING.