Showing posts with label seasons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seasons. Show all posts

Saturday 8 November 2008

Full guard.

This first snow won't be going away. Winter came in and cleared the table in one sweep of a long, cold arm and sat down in a chair to laugh maniacally. Oh yes, she said. I'm here for the duration.

Bitch.

She stuck out her icy foot and tripped me and I fell face-first into this most despised of all seasons. Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. Just not winter. I got up and took a wild swing at her and she kept laughing as I landed nothing, my tiny fists sailing easily through her, an apparition.

I vowed that in March and April I will harness the power of the infinite sun and incinerate her into oblivion and she finally looked concerned. Bet last year's incarnation of winter failed to mention that the gig is on a tight deadline, or that it ends spectacularly for the cold.

So ha-ha to you, you evil bitch. Do what you have to do and get the fuck out.

Monday 13 October 2008

Three days in one, the Thanksgiving edition.

I know I didn't talk much about my reaction on Saturday. I was still processing the day when I wrote it out, still waiting to talk privately to several of the guys because the day strung out into a very long, very full production and it's hard to get that much private time with ten or twelve different people that I needed to thank in person, especially when I really could have used a couple of hours in between each to compose myself.

Ben hadn't said much, just that we were maybe headed to the farm and I dreaded that and so he said we would go see Cole before we left and take a little breather. Only August's jeep was in the parking lot and it gave things away slightly, but not completely. All the guys managed to hide out until Ben whistled and then people appeared out of nowhere just as we rounded the hilltop to walk down to Cole's bench and I saw the other bench with a shiny new plaque installed.

Everyone's eyes were on me and I started to shake uncontrollably and Ben unzipped his coat and tucked me into it and wrapped the sides around me, in his arms until I doubt you would have known I was there if you hadn't seen my legs. My knees were rubber, my heart pounded and my eyes blinded me with tears I couldn't blink away.

What a perfect idea.

The kids needed something desperately and I've been paralyzed. Unable to make any decisions when it comes to Jake because I always make the wrong ones. Unable to move forward or backward, just stuck in today, always. Get through today, plan and reminisce for nothing. Make no lists, try not to focus on the time, on the hours, the minutes, the months without him, focus on the red-blooded man who IS here for you. Get over yourself. Be brave. Let Jacob go, just a little, not a lot, so that you can breathe again.

That's been my internal pep talk for eleven months now and it's failed me miserable, hasn't it?

Ben didn't let go of me until the shaking stopped, and I was passed off to Loch with what I'm sure was a lovely expression of total distrust but Lochlan gave me a squeeze and practically tossed me into PJ's arms, where he hung on like I was a life raft. Sorry PJ, I'm going to tell the internet you cry on my behalf because I think it's awesome.

Ben had both kids in his arms now and they were crying because they take their cues from me.

PJ did not pass me along, Ben had to ask for me back eventually.

Sam said a few words that meshed nicely I'm sure with whatever he had said at Jacob's memorial service (I have no idea what they were) and I couldn't hear him yesterday thanks to the wind but Ben said it was nice and he would repeat it verbatim whenever I was ready but I don't think I need to hear it. After that they just waited and I finally stepped forward and went over and sat down on Jacob's bench and looked at the river and then I put my hands up over my face and Ben's coat was there to hide in again, against his warmth, in his strength that waffles so mightily sometimes. Only when you force him to be strong he is and I wasn't and so we traded for the day.

I did manage to see everyone and talk to everyone privately who was still here by the end of the night and at midnight or so I met Lochlan on the patio to say goodnight and thank him too, though we've been weird and at odds and not talking much, I wanted him to know that I was glad he came. He motioned to two shots on the table. Whiskey. A toast. To what I don't know, so probably less a toast and more a soothing way to put out the fire in my head, calm my thoughts, help me sleep. I lifted my glass and he started talking and he toasted me. To my strength, to my fierce needs to keep going even though it hurts, to do things the way I need to do them and to the girl who is uniquely Bridget and completely unpredictable. And to Jacob's princess, he would be proud of me now.

It was gone before he finished that sentence because by then I really needed it.

He gave me a fast hug and went out through the gate to walk back to John's house where I'm sure the rest of the whiskey would disappear overnight and I turned to go back in the house. Ben was in the kitchen washing dishes. I snuck up behind him and said I was going to go up and brush my teeth if he wanted to go to bed now. Before I could escape he turned and kissed me really hard.

SHIT.

The whiskey was still burning my lips.

He smiled and said I tasted frightening good. I tried to apologize and he just kissed me again and said he loved me, to go up and he'd finish up and get the lights and join me in a few minutes. He was coming up the stairs before I could wrestle the cap off the toothpaste and then he collapsed on the bed, waiting for me while I scrubbed each tooth and my tongue and then my face, hands, and then for good measure I brushed my teeth again.

He kissed me again as I crawled into bed and said the toothpaste was a nice improvement and I apologized but he cut me off again and so I left it and he said if I want to take a drink or have a really hard cry I don't need to go to extraordinary measures to do so. That he was better with me not living on pins and needles on his behalf. I know all this but we have some sort of compulsive need to repeat whole conversations over and over again until something takes hold.

Yesterday was tough, in comparison, really tough as more finalities came to roost in my overcrowded brain and Ben was in and out and Andrew was here keeping watch over the girl he calls Peanut Brittle (isn't THAT a lovely nickname) and I was headed to a white-knuckle finish by about nine pm and so Ben sent Andrew home and suggested we get some rest, because tomorrow we had a big day and....and I don't know what he said or did after that because the moment I had permission to sleep, I closed my eyes and that was it. I have to be told to stop moving sometimes or I'll just keep going.

Waking up at nine-thirty on a day when you have more than a dozen people coming for dinner isn't such a wonderful idea, but I feel very slightly better than i did yesterday, if only this headache would go away, and Henry is back to normal, after a brief bout with the vomit fairy yesterday morning, and everyone will pitch in so I'm not worried about the meal at all, I think it will be fun, and nice to have almost everyone together under one roof for a happy occasion.

And as per tradition within this family made of misfits and wanderers and passion, when one chair goes empty it is filled with someone new and the dynamic changes once again. Only this time the new addition to our group is going to take a lot of getting used to, but at the same time he is tolerated because he is blood and in our family blood is thicker than friendship and so no one dared to question my motives.

I filled the empty chair with Caleb.

We don't call my brother-in-law Satan for nothing. If he's going to share this city with me he's going to be introduced to the force to be reckoned with that is the rest of my guys, who have so far hung back, watching warily while Jacob and Ben and Joel have interacted with him. I've kept them all apart as much as I could on purpose, but with his move here being finalized on Friday, it's time.

But in my house his power will be moot and I expect him to behave. Starting today. He's completely outnumbered and he's going to get eaten alive. Nicely, though, because it's a holiday and there are children present and because the guys are really good with looks and words and making things known without ever having to say things. And I will watch him from the relative safety of Ben's arms because I don't plan to be anywhere else for the rest of today. I'm not sure how Ben will eat anything at dinner with me in the way but he'll figure it out. He's done it before.

And that, my friends, is something to give thanks for.

Friday 3 October 2008

Dischord is such a pretty word, though.

The night is gone and all we get
A picture for a poem, and we lose her
There's something about a late-morning run that throws off my entire day. I don't know why it is, but it is what it is and this is what it is. Thrown, but in a good way.

Go rake some leaves and drink some mulled cider and find a good scary movie and a big warm blanket. I'll see you tomorrow.