Since our social scene has changed over the year, I made reservations down in the Cities for Easter Weekend, at a swanky hotel in a skyscraper Karl adores for its architecture. 20th floor, lots of great views of the city. Karl and I were afraid to admit it was a romantic weekend...I'm not ready for that kind of intimacy, but we did have a very nice weekend. Together. There were so many people on our minds this morning at breakfast--my soul friends M & K finally reunited after many months separated by job, my sister and family, facing their new adventure, thanking M and J for a great dinner last night at Chiang Mai Thai.
And our room. Great room. Great shower, and all products by BLISS! (for those who know, that's bitchin', right?) We arrived to the hotel around 6pm and treated ourselves to valet parking, so we could check in, bring our stuff up to the room, and then find a place for dinner. When we got to our room, saw the great bed, white fluffy bathrobes, I was sold. Not going anywhere for dinner. The room service was absolutely delicious, and those of you knowing my problem with food would be very pleased. I even ate a fair amount of fresh baked brownie cake with at least 2 pounds of fresh whipped cream on it, along with hot fudge and hot caramel sauces. Then we got nerdy. Put our jammies on, back on with the robes, and watch a night of Dr. Who. So calm, so peaceful, it was just what we needed. Slept like a log.
I tried not to think it was my father's second easter up in heaven, or in my own invention---the ether---. When I think, now, of this, I hope he is up there with my mother, watching my niece and nephew enjoying their easter baskets, running around on a sugar high.
This easter was not painful, except for the fact that the ppl we have always shared Easter with have fallen off our radar screen. So it was a new tradition for us, maybe. I like it. It was peaceful. We went to an old haunt, The Local, where I had some fine Irish gold tea and K has Guinness. We wandered, without a plan for the whole of the day. It was a day I breathed deeply and easily all day long. Loved the day, got some fun things, and then met friends for dinner.
As I re-introduce myself into the world, more people notice my tattoo, which has been augmented into a cuff-style bracelet, having charms for each person in my life. I don't mind telling people about it, but only in a general way. My father was not greatly into tattoos, except for the one he got when he spent a Thanksgiving here with us (after my mother died). A rearing black stallion, over his heart.
My re-entry is as a very different person than when I left. I am more authentic, less tolerant of social and political shenanigans, and willing to be emotionally present as it comes. It is still a little roller coaster ride, not entirely predictable. I am more aware that I don't have to worry about that; I can handle the bumps and bruises.
Nose to the grindstone as far as work goes; last week of the semester; events every night. Every day will be filled with student desperate to raise their grades at the literal 11th hour. I will try to be unemotional and consistent in my responses to students.
My dear friend M is finally reunited with her husband in KC; they've been living apart as a family since September. I know Easter will ALWAYS be a special holiday for them, and I'm grateful.
So, I wasn't expecting any Easter-y things to happen; that was fine. But we did have a stress-free weekend, away from home, had good food and good company. My father would have wished I'd be with family, and I'd always have to remind him that I'd have to fly out Friday night and fly back Sunday --there's no real time for travel.
We are one week away from the end of the semester and the end of the year long insanity of returning from a heartbreaking sabbatical. I've healed a lot, opened up a lot, and have less time for nonsense. My dream is still waving at me, and I am going to follow it. There's a door opening, and when it does, I'm walking through it and never looking back. I"ll be holding Karl's hand, so it'll be fine.
Happy Easter, Happy Spring, Happy Renewal.
About Me
- Catherine
- In this blog I have created a haven, a place I allow my deepest emotions to go and sit. I can write easily about what I’ve accomplished. This biography I can recite in my sleep. But I’ve always written poetry and in diaries since I was a teenager. I continued to write poetry in my journals, and not until 2006 did I show them to anyone. I generally write every day, at the present in memoir form. I haven’t written poetry since my mother died in January, 2007. I didn’t write at all between her death and the death of my father three years later in January, 2010. On my father’s birthday in March, 2010, I began this blog, to honor my father and to help me grieve. But I also desperately needed to write, and this stream of conscious style emerged. I needed to find my organic voice.
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