May 4, 1991

May. 4th, 2012 07:54 am
meirwen_1988: (Bride)
He got thrown out of a restaurant.
There was a mountain of ham and and a case of champagne.
I sat in a pool of silk and watched the three year olds run at Churchill Downs.
It was a good day.

May 4, 1991

May. 4th, 2010 07:35 am
meirwen_1988: (Roses)

Tonight

May. 3rd, 2010 11:19 pm
meirwen_1988: (Thoughtful)
"Looking back
on the memory
of The dance
we shared
beneath the stars above,
For a moment all
the world was right.
How could I have known
you'd ever say goodbye.
And now
I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
the way it all would go.
Our lives
are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance.

Holding you
I held everything
For a moment
wasn't I the [queen]
But if I'd only known
how the king would fall
Hey who's to say, you know,
I might have changed it all.

And now
I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
the way it all would go
Our lives
are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss
the dance.
Yes, my life
is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
but I'd of had to miss
the
Dance."

--Tony Arata
meirwen_1988: (writing)
So I woke up in a fairly good mood--all three times. Got up and had tea and muffin, indulging in sweet butter instead of something less calorie laden.

Choosing between making shamrock-shaped sugar cookies and soda bread, I opted for the much less labor intensive tea bread. It is in the oven now, baking away, and will join some Irish cheddar and tea at 3, first in a cup and on a plate, then in my tummy.

It was, however, while the soda bread was being made that my mood crashed.

I thought about the bread baking, the house filling with the scent of it, and flashed back to all the times he'd come home to the smell of the house and smiling after a long day. I remember the joy he took in eating, and the joy I took in feeding him. The way he seemed to embrace the warmth of baked goods, and butter, and rare beef.

How, I wondered, do the widowed do it? Those without children, especially children at home? Those without a Duchezz? Those women and men, devoted partners, suddenly left alone with no one but themselves. Where do they find the energy to do more than open a McDonalds wrapper, or a Lean Cuisine? Where did I find the energy before him? I lived alone from the time I was 19 until I moved in with him at 31. I cooked--well. I baked cookies, and pies. I made cake. And I wasn't the size of a house. I made roasts, and stir fry, and pasta.

Then I was able to find pleasure in the simple act of cooking, in tasting the fruits of my labor. In arranging a room, in color and texture. It didn't matter that I was suiting myself alone. I didn't buy, or cook, or even really think about an "other" in the future I could share it with. It was about the moment, and the joy of just being alive in the moment. It was about flavor and hunger, color and comfort. Mine. And worrying about me was enough. And if there were lonely moments, they weren't about the hunger, they weren't about the comfort.

And now there is a hollowness in both those things. Yes, sometimes there is the Duchezz to cook for, but not always. Sometimes it is about the Duchezz comfort, but not always. Sometimes, like on Tuesdays, there is no Duchezz to care for. Then it is like those days when she was at work, and it would be only his step on the porch. Only him at the table with me. And then I wonder--where do those women and men find the strength to live, not merely exist? Because if the days were all like this, I don't know if I could. I really don't.

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