Skip to main content

Poet With 40 Eyes

Search This Blog

Day 47 -- Egg or Potato?

Get link
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps

I tried to knit an Easter egg, but it turned into a tuber.

Ongoing technical difficulties

#100dayproject #100daysofplay egg head knitting potato head

Get link
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

August 23, 2014

If I could pick a second birthday, today would be that day: August 23.

I had a panic attack for the ages on August 23, 2014, and it landed me, via ambulance ride, in the ER in Petoskey where I begged a nurse, Nancy, to hold my hand and give me a drink of water.

Tests were ran, and I was sent home shortly after that, "Rock solid."

It was my first experience with a mental health crisis in the ER, and received the message loud and clear, "You're kind of a pain-in-the-ass here."

And so, my husband drove us home that evening to what would become a stretch of hellacious-ness as I wrestled to keep and yet thoroughly lose my mind: insomnia for days, more ER visits, a week at the Munson partial hospitalization program, then two weeks of full hospitalization at Sparrow in Lansing.

It's a stretch of divine hell and sweet mercy I will never get to fully understand. And maybe that's its gift.

The thing about that stretch of hitting my rock bottom and rising is this:…

"Why?"

Why?

If the answer to Am I the only one? is never yes, why does being human feel so lonely sometimes?

This morning I dropped off my kids at daycare and the bus stop for camp.

On the way to daycare, my daughter sang, "Over In the Meadow."

Her brother listened and helped her remember the words.

As she sang about robins flying, three, a cloud of sparrows flew overhead, moving around us as we drove up the seasonal road where we have lively debates about the difference between a puddle and a pond.

Tilia starts Kindergarten in a few weeks, just a few weeks left with our dear friend, Chris Evans, for now.

When I say Chris Evans helps me raise my kids, I mean it. We cannot do this alone and her influence on our children is a gift. Hence: Tilia singing "Over In the Meadow, " and Jacob helping her remember the words.

They can be so kind. They have wonderful imaginations. They get to be among peers. Jacob is older now, and goes to camp instead of daycare, but he was one of Ch…

Must Read: Patricia Ann McNair, "And These Are the Good Times"

Thank you, Patricia Ann McNair, for the times, good and real, that you reflect on in your book, "AND THESE ARE THE GOOD TIMES: A Chicago gal riffs on death, sex, life, dancing, writing, wonder, loneliness, place, family, faith, coffee, and the FBI (among other things)". The way you capture the warmth and nuance of being human is so very moving. Your beautiful essays bring my attention to our seemingly small interactions and exchanges with one another, how these hold weight, equate to the whole spectrum of tenderness and harshness that add up and make up our day to day lives--our whole, lived lives.

I felt very much like I was getting to visit with you over coffee or beer in your book. Your company, your insight, is oh so excellent. I just loved it.

In a time where it is easy to move through life without reflection, and self isolate through technology--thank you for reminding me of the heat that makes us human, for the reminder to get out and be in the world, have company, …

Powered by Blogger