Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Hold on to what is good
even if it is
a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe
even if it is
a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do
even if it is
a long way from here.
Hold on to life
even when
it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand
even when
I have gone away from you.
--Nancy Wood

Holding on.

Steve's CEO came from Japan today to pay his respects. Like a ninny, I had some idea that he wanted to observe some traditional Japanese ritual; of course he didn't. He is an astute, cosmopolitan, heavyweight world businessman. His English was flawless. He wanted to do what was culturally appropriate for us, not impose his own notions.

I am grateful for so many things. I am so grateful for the kindness and sympathy of so many people, including you, reading this now. I had no idea there was this vast safety net underneath me, until I fell, and needed it. Thank you.

The days are still endless. I seem to alternate not-so-bad ones with pretty-bad-indeed ones. Today was not so bad. The kids and I are beginning to feel our way to a kind of rhythm. I am needing to cut loose any silliness I can muster, which is freeing and raw and okay-ish. I still start to cry if someone (the grocery store cashier, for example) asks "how are you today?" How I am is still holding on, just barely, with tired and battered fingers.

I actually did wake up yesterday to a phone ringing, and some part of my mind leapt--it has all been a horrible mistake! he is really alive!--of course I know that's not so. I knew it even while the half-formed thought peeked out from the corner of my mind.

Yesterday was one of those pretty-bad-indeed ones. But today wasn't.

I have a list of scary phone calls to make and tasks that I can't deal with yet but will need to eventually. Then there are the mildly absurd things, like the mail and the dog and which end of the grave is it again where I'm allowed to plant the flowers? Actually most phone calls are scary for me, under the best of circumstances. And people are really nice, even at large frightening financial institutions. It just takes a lot out of me to say one more time, my husband died; two weeks ago; yes, same address; yes, I'll hold.

Holding on. Just holding on.


Anonymous Kat said...

You write so beautifully.

Still sending all good thoughts I can. To help you all hold on.

I wish I could do more.

10:25 PM  
Blogger Julie said...

I'm glad to hear you are holding on. I was hoping I'd be able to make it to the Java Room this week but it's not going to happen.

5:46 AM  
Blogger Carole said...

Holding on is good. But, you know, if you can't, what's truly going to happen? I think it might be okay to let go if you have to. You don't have to be strong you just have to be. I wish I could actually do something.

6:03 AM  
Anonymous witchypoo said...

Holding is good. Just surviving the day is good too.

We are still here for you.

10:04 AM  
Blogger Lucia said...

I hate making phone calls, even at the best of times.

We were thinking of you today, Lauren and Dale and I, hoping you were OK, and always, like everyone else, wishing we could do more.

1:53 PM  
Anonymous Erica said...

There's no "just" about it. Holding on is hard, exhausting work. Just know that we are indeed here, arms outstretched.

8:44 PM  
Blogger Jena the yarn harpy said...

Holding on is all that needs to be done for now. More will come with time, but for now, do what you can. The rest can be taken care of.

We're all here, as always. Just let us know if you need us. :)

8:30 AM  
Blogger Ruth said...

To echo everyone else ... holding on is all that is expected. You're doing fine.

I'm thinking of you and the children daily ....

10:51 AM  
Anonymous The Tattoo Queen said...

Love you. Can't wait for the chance to make you laugh again.

9:24 AM  
Blogger The Crafty Weasel said...

A big hug to you, Liz, and much much strength.

10:54 PM  

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