As this baby girl wakes up, mama sings for her. Such beautiful magic. It brings tears to my eyes this morning. I cry for the baby girl that Carl and I didn’t get to have together, but I pray that he’ll help me find a way to her, in whatever form that might take. Song…it is so much like prayer. I breathe into this life so that I might remain open to where ever it is that God wants to bring me.
{originally published Dec 12, 2014}
Sitting at the Miami airport and all I want to do is cry. I am worn and weary, smooth as stone. I play with words to avoid the jagged tears that have already begun to spill
over the edges of things. I let the sounds of song and surf soften me so that I might feel held closer to the center of something. And so…
2 things:
**this video of my last visit to the ocean earlier today
**this song that keeps me from drowning:
“Oceans”
You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will standI will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise my soul will rest in your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mineYour grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed and you won’t start nowSo I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mineSpirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my SaviorI will call upon Your Name
Keep my eyes above the waves
My soul will rest in Your embrace
I am Yours and You are mine
I love you, Carl. Let me not leave without you.
{originally published Dec 10, 2014}
Just like in his earthy life, Carl continues to create the most gorgeous connections. This song sent from a friend, today she was chosen to be a conduit for such great love. A song from Carl. A gift from Spirit. I love you, baby. You are the path through these mountains. You, all along, it was you.
“We Dance”
You steady me
Slow and sweet, we sway
Take the lead and I will follow
Finally ready now
To close my eyes and just believe
That You won’t lead me where You don’t goWhen my faith gets tired
And my hope seems lost
You spin me round and round
And remind me of that song
The one You wrote for meAnd we dance
And we danceAnd I’ve been told
To pick up my sword and fight for love
Little did I know that Love had won for me
Here in Your arms
You still my heart again
And I breath You in like I’ve never breathed ‘till nowAnd I will lock eyes with the One who’s ransomed me
The One who gave me joy for mourning
Oh I will lock eyes with the One who’s chosen me
The One who set my feet to dancing
{originally published Dec 9, 2014}
Oh, Carl, you’ve done it again. Sending me music so perfect, I can’t help but believe.
“Across The Sea”
I see your face across the sea
You’re in the waves, surrounding me
I hear your voice call on the breeze
On this ship out on the oceanSailing across the sea on a big ship on the ocean
The moon is rising in the east the stars hang down around her
The bow is arrowed to the hearts of the ones we wish to come home to
But the newly lit night directs this flight singing the ocean road will guide youI see your face across the sea
You’re in the waves, surrounding me
I hear your voice call on the breeze
On this ship out on the oceanWhen I wake I’ll cast my anchor down and dive below
I’ll dive into my lover’s arms we’ll warm the ocean’s cold
Across the sea and to our home we’ll meet again so soon
You’ll be with me across the sea on this ship out on the oceanI see your face across the sea
You’re in the waves, surrounding me
I hear your voice call on the breeze
On this ship out on the ocean.
I haven’t turned on music since The Avett Brothers, “Live and Die” song he sent me. But after an afternoon spent on the beach of the ocean, I turned on Pandora once more and this is the first (and only) song that played. Oh, sweet music. Carl’s favorite thing. I. Am. Blessed.
{originally published Dec 7, 2014}
I haven’t listened to music since Carl died. Or, at least, very, very little of it. It’s too painful. Music is how we used to do a lot of communicating and Carl always had a way of sending me the best songs when I needed them the most. This morning I am laying on a bright orange couch in Carl’s old and worn out flannel shirt, overlooking the ocean and being caressed by its comforting breeze. For the first time since his passing I decided to turn on Pandora. Before I had a chance to even choose a station, this is what started playing. Thank you, baby. That’s exactly the song I needed today. My toe started tapping and a smile stole across my face. Even now…he’s still sending me the most perfect songs at just the perfect time.
“Live And Die”
All it will take is
just one moment and
you can say goodbye to
how we had it plannedFear like a habit,
run like a rabbit out and away.
Through the screen door
to the unknown.And I want to love you and more.
I want to find you and more.
Where do you reside
When you hide? How can I find you?‘Cause I want to send you and more
I want to tempt you and more
can you tell that I am alive?
Let me prove it.You and I, we’re the same.
Live and die, we’re the same.
Hear my voice, know my name,
you and I, we’re the same.Left like a pharaoh,
sing like a sparrow anyway.
Even if there is no land or
love in sight.We bloom like roses,
leave like Moses out and away.
Through the bitter crowd
to the daylight.And I want to love you and more.
I want to find you and more.
Can you tell that I am alive?
Let me prove it to ya.You and I, we’re the same.
Live and die, we’re the same.
You rejoice, I complain,
but you and I, we’re the same.
Live and die, we’re the same.
You and I, we’re the same.
Hear my voice, know my name,
you and I, we’re the same.And I want to love you and more.
I want to find you and more.
Where do you reside
When you hide? How can I find you?‘Cause I want to send you and more
I want to tempt you and more.
Can you tell that I am alive?
Let me prove it.You and I, we’re the same.
Live and die, we’re the same.
You rejoice, I complain,
but you and I, we’re the same.
Live and die, we’re the same.
You and I, we’re the same.
Hear my voice, know my name,
you and I, you and I.
I love you, Carl.
{originally published Dec 5, 2014}
Stop. Drop. And selfie. + a black dog photobomb. A moment today that included a genuine smile.
…and then Henry wanted in on the fun, too.
Nearly impossible to summarize the past few days…North Dakota, being on the road, the sunsets, the immense amount of work, the roller coaster of emotions, the amazing help, the late night trip home, the exhaustion, this day of gratitude…
I don’t know where to start and so I’ll start right here. With this moment on my kitchen floor. This moment when the Thanksgiving festivities were all over and we all missed Carl and I felt a little consumed by how many days ahead of me I have without him. I came home and put on his old flannel shirt. I was all alone and not knowing how I felt about that, but ended up smiling because my dog Ella attacked me with love and then Henry wanted in on the fun, too. Which leads us right here to the present moment.
And all the while I’ve had this song playing over and over and over in my head…for over a week. I dream it, I wake up to it, I hum it, I pray it, I fall asleep to it. I hear it while I drive or tend to tasks. Over and over it keeps playing like a song that Carl is sending me, just like he always used to do.
Good Lord, show me the way.
This morning, I am suspended in silence. The sky is grey and it is snowing. The horses are purring as they eat their hay. It took them a moment to give into their current contentment because I forgot to go to the farm supply store to buy more sweet feed yesterday. These small, but seemingly impossible tasks, they seem to add up. Even so, the horses are forgiving. As I brush snow off their backs and rub their muscles, they bend their giant, gentle necks so that their head can rest against mine. Their eyes are soft. They’ve been particularly sensitive towards me since all of this happened. Sometimes I think they’ve transmuted into elephants, the profundity of their sentience has grown so large.
Horses. They’ve become my healers for the past several years, in significant ways. I reached out to wild horses and started to build a life around them. It didn’t take long and then these two horses, Colorado and Dakota, unexpectedly walked into my life. Again, I reached out to them; I fed and watered and brushed them and, in exchange, they breathed some newfound life into me. Their trails started carving out new paths in my life. The most significant trail led to Carl. If it weren’t for these horses, I’m pretty sure our paths might have missed each other. Or rather, these horses were brought into my life because this was going to happen all along. I feel like this story was written long before either of us could have ever known–our marriage of spirits and Carl’s death and whatever is to come. There is a word that has whispered itself to me often since falling in love with Carl. The word is “Maktub,” an ancient word that means “it is written.” Our relationship has felt this way, to both of us, since the very beginning. We trusted in it completely.
I still trust this. But I’m not yet up to the task of healing. I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, staving off this horrible feeling of anxiety that continuously keeps creeping in around the edges. Even so, the horses keep reaching for me. Their reach is so soft and unassuming that the near-imperception is powerful beyond measure. This reaching–from friends and family, strangers and animals–causes moments of lightness and lets the peace sneak back in. Sometimes I even feel Carl wrap his arms around me. He lets me lean backward into his spirit and says: “I love you, baby.” He repeats this as many times as I need to hear it. He tells me to follow my heart. He tells me that I’ll know what to do. But I can’t always feel him and, when I can’t, that’s when the anxiety comes. I plead, “Please God, please God…help me.” And, somehow, maybe these and everyone else’s prayers are working, even when I’m not sure of it at the time. The depth of my grief causes me to clench every muscle, every thought, every movement. But eventually, a softness occurs…my body isn’t built to stay frozen forever.
Even so,
This silence…if it doesn’t already exist, sometimes I create it.
Carl and my life together was always alive and connected with phone conversations and texts and sharing music. It was constant. In the most painful moments, I attempt to hit the mute button, a survival technique that doesn’t help at all. Eventually, the music will want back in. I can’t yet listen to it. Carl filled my life with music, our life together was built of it. For now, for today, I’ll just try to listen to the directions of a friend and attempt to enjoy the snow. I’m grateful for her suggestion. It allows me a way to be at peace with this silence. I love snow. These snowflakes, they are gentle, like Carl.
**the photo of Carl playing mandolin in my studio while i painted. i loved it when our creative spirits found a place to be together.
{originally published Nov 19, 2014}
The contours of grief keep changing. I feel them the most when I wake up in the morning. Yesterday it felt one way and today it felt another. Each day has its own edges or lack of, its own weight or lack of, its own hollowness or lack of. Each day is equally bad in it’s own very unique way, with surprising moments of thorough goodness sprinkled into all the daylight hours in between. My tears were quiet this morning because I have a friend staying with me. I can be real with and around her, but there is a part of my grief that is simply private. I am grateful for her peaceful energy in the house. She sits in the loft reading with my cat as I try to find words to help me through another day. And that was the hardest part about waking up this morning. No words. I didn’t have anything. Just nothing, not even Carl. No sweet story to share, no photo that felt like the right one…only the repetitive pain of what is happening and what will never be. I got out of bed to escape the feeble dullness of all of this. I was surprised by the number of mouths I have to feed: horses and dogs and a cat. All these movements feel like too much, but I do it anyway and then feel grateful for the necessity of it.
I realize that this might not be the best platform for this kind of sharing, but right now I feel drawn to do it and so maybe it is helping someone else, too. I have learned to trust that in life and I am leaning into it, at least for now. An attempt at telling this beautiful story of Carl’s life and even his passing. I know this journey is leading me somewhere and, if you’re a part of this story, then it is leading you somewhere also. SO many of you have left such beautiful comments and sent heart-filled messages. I haven’t even begun to respond, but I am lifted up by the love that surrounds Carl and me over and over and over again.
The sky is grey today. It invites numbness. But then I opened the photo album on my phone and watched the video of the last song played at Carl’s funeral. Oh my goodness…when I listen to it right now the color starts to seep back in around the edges of this day. The music played for Carl was nothing short of phenomenal. That violin, like swallows sweeping and swooping through the sky. And Lou on the guitar, an impromptu jam…just like Carl would have loved. In that moment, at the funeral, I have never cried and smiled so hard at the same time in my entire life. Carl used to dance with me all the time. He loved to spin me around. We weren’t very good dancers, but would laugh and have so much fun. I felt him dancing with me while that music filled the church so thoroughly. Oh, and it was a joyous dance! Somehow he was dancing with just me and, at the same time, dancing with everyone. It was so “Carl.” Lover of life, his endless smile just keeps sneaking back in. As horrible as I am feeling at times, I can’t help it…he just keeps sneaking back in. I love him. We all loved him.
I hope you like this song. I hope it makes you smile, too.
xo
{originally published Nov 16, 2014}
if this is grace 