Unearthing Beauty & Pain

Blogging now, even though not heading to bed yet. Still sifting through office stuff.

We can almost see the bottom of the couch now, Sugar, H. just said to the dog. Bags and bags later, you can catch a glimpse of the greenish sofa cushions again.

I've found some wonderful things and some I'd rather forget about forever [tough times, family illness, endless medical receipts and bills, Dad dying]. I like the way a friend from boot camp recently said It's behind us when someone asked her about a health problem in her family. I know it's not always the case that you can close the door and move on, but it is true that many hurdles are behind us, and I am deeply grateful for that. And the trials do turn into tiaras, if you will. I am stronger and have earned glittering diamonds--even if you can't see them--for the dark storms I've weathered. I can stand taller, be more helpful, be wiser, calmer. It may sound corny, but I think it's true. I can be light and bright and hopeful.

Some notable finds:

• Driving directions to Cape Cod house, handwritten by Dad in his very neat, all-CAPS hand in blue ballpoint pen on lined paper. I now know the directions by heart but will cherish that paper. A father pointing his daughter on the right road, the safe road. [When I got my first car, a used tan Chrysler Champ, Dad gave me a picture of bearded Jesus guarding drivers, to keep in the glove compartment. I miss Dad so much.]
• Figgy's drawings of girls, which progressed over the years from big-eyed little cuties to serious and sometimes sharp-edged ladies.
• List of colleges we thought Fig should consider. But she didn't waver from the ones she wanted.
• Daunting notes about fertility attempts before Punch came into our lives long ago.
• A photo of me at a work dinner with an associate. It must have been in 1998 or 99. I look so much younger and more vibrant--slimmer, too, of course. Is there a way to grow and learn from that photo rather than think I can never slim down and get healthy again? That's a tough call. You cannot recapture your youth. 
• Business card of my second and very long-time therapist in NYC.
• A list of the generous, generous gifts my boot camp friends gave me when the tree fell through our roof and we had to move out in March 2010. They filled a workout bag with bottles of wine and gift cards for a pedicure/manicure; Sports Authority; Italian restaurant; movie theater; Starbucks; and more. I almost burst into tears when Patsy gave it to me after a class. My family was uprooted from our home for what would be eight months but I was deeply rooted in such a wonderful group of friends.
• Cards from Fritch, my friend since kindergarten, with whom I've lost touch. This troubles me.
• Note from Pat, my mother's cousin, who lives in Connecticut. She looked so much like my mother when I saw her last. I want to reconnect with her.

I think I have to sleep.

Good night.

TCOY

1. Support group.
2. Long talk with Lisa and Jane.
3. Ate some kale salad. And for block party tomorrow, instead of bringing chocolate chip cookies and apple crisp [Punch requested both], I got pretty red and blue berries to pile in a bowl. Am still going to make the Neiman Marcus cookies in the morning.