Highs and lows, all part of the same journey
Ever notice that things are rarely all great or all terrible?
Even when I was a teen, I was of the opinion that without some of the lows, we wouldn’t appreciate the highs. Without the struggle, I thought, I wouldn’t appreciate the success as much.
I’d love to say that teenage Kelly was wrong, but time keeps showing me (again and again) how right she appears to be.
That give-and-take, that ebb-and-flow, is all a part of how you move through life.
You turn up at a Thanksgiving holiday to enjoy family or friends, even as you grieve those who are no longer with you. Whether it’s the first holiday without someone or the 30th, it can hit hard at any time. And still, there can be joy.
You plan your Chanukah or Christmas get-togethers, and enjoy the season, food, and celebration, even as you mourn a lost relationship (maybe an ex-lover or ex-friend, or a relative you decided to go no-contact with) or a loved one (family or not) who has died.
I left home last week in order to visit my aunt and cousins in South Carolina’s “upstate”, and to spend some time at my parents’ house, packing and cleaning things.
Lows:
my parents aren’t here (obviously), but that was made further real when I got here. There’s not even a sense of their energies being here. And for reasons I may never know nor understand, my brother had disposed of their cremains without checking with me, leaving my daughters and I a bit bereft.
packing things up isn’t physically difficult, but it sure is mentally and emotionally taxing
I was at first quite surrounded by memories of mom’s last days, but those mostly disappeared after I did an energy clearing in the house
as usual when I’m away, I miss my sweetheart and our kitty
Highs
I got to see my friend Andria, who is a librarian for Charleston Public Library, and we had a wonderful brunch together and got to chat and hug—I was able to donate mom’s unused gift wrap for their holiday book giveaway, as well as a box of books I brought from home
I got to see mom’s neighbor, Janice, who was an absolute godsend during mom’s last week. A selfless, retired hospice nurse who volunteered to help with all the hard stuff, she is an angel
I got to shop at my favorite little store in downtown Summerville, which always makes me happy, and also to visit the World Market store—the nearest one to me at home is two states away
I got to spend time with my daughter Sara, who lives in Charleston
In fact, Sara took me out to dinner last night. First we met for cocktails at the bar inside the Spectator Hotel, where we visited her friend Rose. I had something called “The Lion’s Tale”, involving bourbon, lime juice, and allspice (somehow)? It was both pretty and delicious.
Then we went to Charleston Place, which is decked all the way out for the Christmas season. Too many trees to count, along with ginormous white nutcrackers that must stand at least eight feet tall. And, in the courtyard, a magical Christmas tree. We were able to stand in the courtyard to wait for soap bubble snow was sprayed from the building and the tree to create absolute magic. You can see very short videos I took here and here. It was so beautiful, and so pure, that I got quite misty-eyed over it.
Also? There were cookies.
And then Sara and I went inside and enjoyed our dinner at the Grill, and it was phenomenal (like, mind-blowingly good), which isn’t unusual in Charleston, which is a foodie town. Our favorite was probably the sweet potato soup, poured from a pitcher over toasted pecans, with a smear of rosemary meringue around one side of the bowl. The heat (temperature and spice) of the soup with the sweet of the meringue was literally chef’s kiss.
And then I drove home, alone, to a darkened house where nobody lives anymore.
Ebb and flow. Give and take. Grief commingled with joy.
Same as always.
