KattyWilly

oh, and by the way, what the heck was Halley doing blogging at 9 pm last
night? Must have been some sort of problem with her blogging software
where all her early morning posts got stuck and came out at night instead 🙂

I’m watching City of Angels, again. I don’t understand why but I am
drawn to this movie. I like the Meg Ryan character and wish I had the
magic she sees in Seth Plate, Nicolas Cage’s character. It’s such an
interesting love story a doctor and an angel. An angel who is so
inept at the ways of love, but is completely comfortable with
children. The man with the child in his eyes. Or, maybe it’s just
the music.

I remember watching it for the first time with Cindy. It was one of
those movies that we both seemed to get totally involved in. We stop
talking and absorb the images, dialog, and story. An Affair to
Remember, and Sleepless in Seattle were other examples of that type of
movie. We would be sitting on the couch channel surfing and would
somehow become instantly involved in those movies. And at the end we
would pass the tissues.

Tonight I’m watching as Nathan Messenger an angel who has fallen to
earth to become human is describing the process to Seth. During a
commercial break I check my aggregator and notice that Halley
points to Maryam
talking about falling. Seth falls … and wakes in pain, and with
an overwhelming flood of emotions and feelings. Maybe it’s just the
music.

As Cindy and I watched City of Angels that first time I distinctly
remember the point near the end when I realized what was going to
happen, how the movie was going to end. How Seth was going to lose
Maggie. I cursed the maker of the movie, as Maggie is riding
euphoric, through the woods on her bicycle, I cursed. How could they
let her fall. How could they let her die.

How could they let me fall. How could they let her die!

Seth gets up, again. Even though he has lost the only thing he has
loved, he will go on and live.

We fall. We get back up, and as with Maryam we sometimes have a
helping hand. Someone who reaches out and gives us the help that we
need to get back up and live again.

Seth has such a short time with Maggie. She tells him they have their
whole lives together. “I would
rather have had, one breath of her hair, one kiss of her mouth, one
touch of her hand, than an eternity without it. One.” But somehow
he is able to get up again and revel in the beauty of the world.

“When they ask what I liked the best, I’ll tell them it was you.”

Nina talks about the “unbearable
lightness of parenting”

Everyday is like this for me with my girls. And I don’t ever need
anyone to remind me. It is impossibly heavy on your heart and soul
trying to make every day be Christmas, to correct all the mistakes, to
try and stop thinking about the fact that we will never again be the
family we once were. No matter how hard I try to “take back”, and “want
the chance to change”. I can’t even stop them and make them sit in my
lap so I can hold them anymore. They keep growing up and slowly
becoming young adults. They are maturing and seemingly need me less and
less every day, even as I feel I need them more and more. The trick is
to somehow ignore this heaviness of heart and try to enjoy the life we
have with them while we can.

Christmas quilt.

Christmas Decorations

Chesley and I are getting our all the Christmas decorations. Christmas
music is playing on the Stereo. Some of the songs have a sense of
melancholy to them. As we go through the decorations we each silently
play back old memories of Christmas past. Remembering doing these
things with mom. Remembering the look of delight, how she would
revel the process of taking each delicate decoration out of the box, or
unwrap the years gone by piece of newspaper from a piece of glass and
rush to place it in it’s spot on the mantle, or on the china cabinet, or
hang on the wall. And then stop to look at the date on the newspaper
and remember…

So we carefully unwrap the delicate little Christmas memories, and look
at the dates on the newspapers and remember what it was like back then,
back when…

And we stop to go do something else for a minute or two. And wait for a
lighter tune to play on the stereo, for our eyes to dry, for the memory
to fade…

And then we come back and smile, and find a favorite decoration, and
look for a new place for it to sit. Everything seems to have a new
place these days. Things just don’ t seem to fit anymore.

Over at Ryhmes with Drowning, Todd remarks

“And then I realized… why? That means nothing to anyone but me. Those
events really TRULY only had relevance to two people in the world, and
one of them is gone. That leaves me, and I don’t need to dwell on those
past events.”

That is one of the things I find it very difficult to deal with, the
desire to remember the good times of the past, and wanting to share
those memories that we experienced together. But as Todd says those
memories are only relevant to me and Cindy and she’s never going to be
here to share those with me. Does that make those memories somehow
empty memories that hold no value? Where do they fit in this new life?
Do they have any place? Did I not only lose Cindy and our future
together? Did I somehow lose much of what only the two of us shared
privately? Think about all the personal memories you have that were
shared with only you and someone you loved. When the loved one dies do
we lose half of those shared memories, or do we actually lose them
completely?

Chelsey was sick on Thanksgiving.  Some sort of stomach flu I
think.  So this was our Thanksgiving Day feast, fruit and
cheese.  Chesley didn’t eat but Lindsey and I did.

Woke
up this morning and Lindsey is now sick.  Somehow I can hear
everyone who is thankfull for their health and I guess I’m thankfull
that it’s only some sort of flu.

Kitten posted a very nice critique of one of my images.  I’m hoping in the spring or summer to be able to take some photography classes with the girls at the Dunedin Fine Arts Center. 
I tried to see if we could take one earlier this year but even trying
to take a private class didn’t fit into our schedule.  Maybe once
school gets out we will have more time for that kind of thing.

I found a new blog, to me at least, and have added it to my list of
daily reads. This post on “How to Elevate Your Mood Without Smoking, Drinking, Eating or Taking Drugs”
was interesting to me. As I read through the list I realized that
I already do a bunch of those things at work every day. As for
before and after work I’m still so busy that I don’t have time to think
about anything, although that is starting to get a little better with
my oldest now driving and lightening the driving load.

At work I’ve found that software projects are able to always take all
the available time allocated no matter what the level of effort that
was projected to be required.

Somehow life is like the software projects in that my every day chores
and tasks seem to take all available time. That seems to be
driving me towards things like this article on how to Live Simple, to reduce the clutter in your life at LifeHack.org. Or this story
about the obesity of the American consumption lifestyle which appeared
in my Sunday paper this morning, although I can’t find it at my
newspaper’s web site. I keep thinking that if my life were somehow
simpler and more organized I would have more time.

“All the time in the world…
These precious days we live through
Thrown away like tissue
I wish that I could give you all the time in the world”

All the Time in the World
Beth Nielsen Chapman

Julie is
worried as am I. In Julie’s case it is swimming lessons. Swimming
lessons here on the west central coast of Florida aren’t an option they
are a requirement. We are literally surrounded by water and about every
third house has a pool. We are surrounded by houses that have pools.

When we first started swimming lessons we were instructed by the teacher
to try and stay out of sight of the girls. That would help prevent them
from wanting to keep coming back out of the pool to mommy and daddy. I
seem to remember sitting in an upper deck seating area at the local YMCA
pool. It worked. The girls got over the separation very quickly and
were able to focus on the instructor and not on mommy and daddy. As the
lessons went on they would realize where we were and look to us for
encouragement for their accomplishments and we would proudly cheer them on.

We went on to take ballet lessons, and music lessons and of course
skating lessons. Now I am faced with driving lessons and more recently
having to let my oldest take her place out on the roads by herself.
Without me riding along side there in plain sight waiting in case she
needs her daddy. This too is a case where there comes a time where I
have to be out of sight for her to allow her to focus on her task and to
become proficient at driving, just like she did with swimming and skating.

Julie describes the fear of being a parent:

“As the classes continue, large clock ticking on the wall, waves
splash over the edge. I watch the water flow in and out and I realize
how difficult it is for me to learn to swim as a mom. I struggle,
sinking in anxiety. If only I could float. If only I could be flexible
and fluid. If only I could be like liquid. Like love.

Floating is not fighting. I remember learning how to swim, my teacher’s
gentle voice encouraging me to relax and look up as I paddled around the
pool on my back, hands like fish fins at my sides. To survive in this
environment, I must become aquatic. I want to be one with the water,
allowing it to move me, not resisting its flow. With silent prayers and
visible tears, I release the weights and worries. I release my children
and myself. This will be difficult. I’ll have to make new muscles and
new movements. I will struggle and fail. Slowly I will learn to swim. I
will float with my face to the sky.”

It is difficult. Especially so for us. As I do my best to learn how to
swim as the parent for my girls, I too, will and have struggled, and I
too, will and have failed. But I am learning to swim, and I float with
my face to the sky and smile hoping that she is smiling down on us.