like water for chocolate

as i've considered picking back up and writing over here, i've concerned myself with how to approach it.  what do i want to write about? what direction should i take my blog? i never intended for it to be anything other than a place for me to write regardless of who may or may not read so, a place simply for musing should suffice for now. thinking it has to have direction is just another way to procrastinate getting started again.  i want to write, i love to write.  there's no right or wrong way for me to do this.

so here we are, a year and several months since my last post. it's the first of fall and while it's typical for me to feel melancholia with the changing of the seasons, my heart is especially heavy now and for reasons not belonging to the time of year.

saturday i stood in the kitchen all day and baked.  working in the kitchen soothes my soul.  feeding other people lifts my spirits and helps the load feel lighter.   how strange this is.

there's a book about a family in mexico where the youngest daughter in the house is forbidden to marry and is condemned by tradition to look after her mother until she dies. 

as the story is told, much of it is set in the kitchen where the young woman is taught how to prepare meals for the household.  she is told that as she prepares the food, the emotions she is feeling at that particular moment will be felt by all who eat what she has made.

when the girl falls madly in love with a man and he with her, he's so desperate to be near her, he marries her sister and moves into the home.  she prepares the food with passion for him swimming through her thoughts, he feels love and lust through his own body as he eats her meals (sexy, right?).  her sister, who she despises, feels the sadness and hatred.  and so it goes ...

really, it's silly, i know.  but, i thought about it as i baked these treats for others to enjoy.  maybe cooking is therapeutic because my emotions seep into the food i'm preparing?  luckily, my imagination isn't so good that i actually believe it to be true.  it was just a thought that i had.  how unfortunate it would have been to ruin my dear friends perfectly festive and fun-filled get together with magical mood transferring cupcakes?

but seriously.

life is happening all around us.  people are falling in love, new lives are being welcomed into deserving homes.  children are growing and finding their way.  hard work is paying off for some while others are still persevering through adversity.

people are dying.

that's the heaviest of happenings.

while i feel gratitude over being able to take part in this fascinating life, there's times when the difficult parts are so hefty, the tunnel so long, that even the tiniest steps feel impossible to take.  so many times i've said to others, especially my children, "we have to endure the bad bits in order to appreciate the good bits," and most of the time, i believe this myself but some bits are easier to make sense of than others.  some bits are more controllable.  for me, the little sets of eyes that are watching me and learning how to find their own way, are sometimes the only reason i can pick my feet up and keep moving.

what i know now, what i have witnessed myself is, in the end, when we have been stripped of all dignity, when we can no longer walk, talk or take care of our most basic needs without help, all that we have left, all that we ever truly had to call our own, are those people who stand lovingly and selflessly by our side, holding our hand as we slip back into non-being.  they're the people worth moving forward for.  they're the people who will carry us with them through their own lives.

this material world we're so pressured to participate in and often so consumed with doesn't hold a candle to the love we are capable of giving and receiving.

when jake's grandma passed recently, i was nervous to take our kids to the services.  it would be their first time experiencing loss and witnessing sorrow in people who they love and look to for their own comfort.  i told them there's no wrong way or right way to feel.  that how they feel is the right way to feel.  now i'm trying to remind myself of this as i'm slightly surprised over my own reaction to what i know has to happen.  what i knew was happening.

my grandma is not like any other simply because she is mine. her life, the part that i have been present for, has been one of the most special parts of my own.

how neat it is.

i don't know what else to say.