Monday, May 02, 2011


the husband and i like to joke that the reason we bought (what is now formerly) our 100 year old falling down farmhouse in the middle of nowhere was for the lilacs. the beautiful beautiful lilacs.

but really, it's true.

okay, not really.

but sort of really.

god they were gorgeous. dark ones and light ones and even white ones. you could smell them on the breeze. big bunches of purple and green in blue glass jars scattered about the house. some for your friends, the rest for you. and, lilacs in blue glass jars scattered about the house also meant that windows and doors could be left open for the day and that winter was through. finally.

yesterday while walking wingman to his baseball game we traveled through the most charming town i may ever live in under the bluest of skies. the sun was shining, wingman was skipping ahead, and i was marveling at how very lucky i was to be enjoying this moment. (and yes, it was just as quaint as it sounds)

then i walked by someone's yard and there it was. the flowers yet to bloom, the leaves full and lush and that distinctive green, unmistakable. someone's lucky little stand of lilacs. and *immediately* i began walking as fast as i could and didn't even try to stop the tears. something took me fully over and i couldn't get away fast enough. i couldn't stop crying. it was truly instantaneous.

i was, in that moment, just about as heartbroken and angry as i have been about this whole lost house lost coast thing. it was amazing, really. how quickly it took root and spread. and stalking down the charming main street of the charming town with a charming and humming wingman skipping ahead i was thinking dark thoughts about stupid people and their dumb ass lilacs and felt very very selfishly ungrateful and covetous and sad.

i was grief stricken and enraged and wanted to scream and to howl and shout out how unfair this whole thing has been. poor me in all its pulled apart at the seams gory glory.

but of course, as many of us know, there never really is the right time or place to stop and howl. and if i did, well then i'd surely make the town blog. which is a distinction i strive NOT to accomplish every single day that i'm here.

so. instead i slowed my step, took some deep breaths, and dried my tears in time to catch up with wingman who had run ahead to the ball field. i smiled instead of cried, i did not howl, and i made the best of the afternoon. because that's just what you do when you aren't a one woman wolf pack.

(wingman's team won, by the way. 17-1.)

and when i went to bed last night i forgot to remember all that's best to remember before you close your eyes for the day. and i began to tally up the loss. what has been taken and what this has cost. from me. to me. to be here. in this house. in this new life. and i felt very beaten by the world and wondered if we would ever recover from this materially. forgetting that it isn't about things and money. forgetting that i've landed so charmingly. forgetting that this process of digging out of the rubble takes time. forgetting to be grateful.

and when i woke up this morning and went drowsily about my routine i still had that tightened fist of 'not enough' sitting on my heart.

and then the following very amazing thing happened. and if i could make this up i would and make a lot of money as a very clever writer. but i didn't. and thus remain 'homemaker' on all important documents.

i was sitting at my computer and in a moment of pause i looked up and out the window to my right and holy shit and honest to god there was there IS a lilac bush growing in the back yard against the side fence!

i have been in this house for close to 6 months now. i have been sitting at this computer every day in that time. and since the snow finally for good stopped and the sun came out in the last month or so i have gone outside every single day in that time.

and i never ever saw the lilac.

i raced outside and it was just there. and then ANOTHER ONE down the fence on the other side of the big flowering yellowy bush that i don't know the name of. another lilac. just. there. purple spears turned toward the sun and soaring atop the distinctive green leaves. and ready to burst into bloom at any moment. how did i not see these???

now. i concede that it's likely true that they didn't just 'appear.' that they've been there and somehow i didn't...notice them until now. i understand enough about the world of the humans to know that this is the explanation that will make we silly mortals accept the appearance of the lilacs.

but even so, does that make it any less of a miraculous event?

no. it does not.


why we even waste our time creating our own pits of despair is beyond me. why we give into the dark when there is so much light i fail to understand. because the world is SUCH a miraculous place! the miracle is that every single day we wake up we are given the opportunity to view the world anew. to start again. an opportunity for something TOTALLY amazing to happen. and this means that the tightly closed fists and dark thoughts and deepest despairs and the bad days and weeks and years of our past do not have to dictate our future. that every day ends and every day begins. and in that we are given, each and every one of us, one more chance.

one day i shall learn this without having to keep learning this. but wait? what will i write about then? a conundrum to be sure. in the meantime...


and it doesn't matter if it's the work of the mysterious and divine or if i just still have a LOT of work to do towards acceptance and grief or if i just really REALLY need to start wearing my glasses more.

because the fact of the matter is that the lilacs were there. i just needed to notice them. and, i did. and THAT'S where the divine exists.

and i still have lilacs. isn't that something?



Lone Star Ma said...


gerg said...

when you walk past a bush of lilacs and cry, it isn't called despair its called healing. good for you. and good to hear about wingman's team win. they say moving is right up there with divorce in terms of stress. i guess that has a lot to do with your marriage and the details of the move. on the bright side of things (for you), the weather has sucked the big one over here, coldest spring in over 60 years. my dad stays in florida during the winter months and continually pisses me off with his persistent complaints that it is only in the 60's and his lawn is growing too fast.

enjoy the baseball and lilacs!

Kathleen said...

Im really glad you have lilacs. I don't really know your backstory yet, but wanted to comment that they were waiting for the perfect time to show themselves. :)