Summer Musings

Orvieto, Italy. Possibly the most magical place I have ever been!

 This summer has been quite difficult to form into words.

I experienced a grand adventure with some of my favorite people, but not all of my people.

We enjoyed rest, new foods, wine, laughter, and far off places.

We annoyed one another daily. We were living and sleeping in close quarters, running to catch hot trains, flagging down taxi’s that never stopped. We rode bikes through new cities while guides stretched their arms to reveal new sights and visions of history.

We devoured gelato, every single day of those three weeks. It was worth every penny and pound.

We spent each day surrounded by the most astounding places and beauty I’ve ever experienced.

But then moments would slow down, and a recent loss would come sharply into focus.

Sitting on a train as it lumbered through quiet towns , waiting for a plane, pacing for a taxi. In the pause, a deep sadness, an ache really, was carved within me. I carried it around, found a home for it. I wondered how long this grief might stay. Would it be a short visit, or might it build a nest and dig its heels in. I wasn’t sure in those moments across the sea.

Summer has come to a close, and this past week the wound was opened once again.  

And in the center of crushing sadness I recognized that this is the pattern of life.

A tearing apart and a mending back together.

The pattern of grief and joy, together. I am in awe at the capacity of our hearts. The ways in which we can belly laugh with friends over something truly worth celebrating, and then climb into our car, drive home and become buried under the weight of loss and empty space that has appeared.

I’m finding that I’m surrounded and loved, but it is the loneliest season I have experienced in a great while.

So in this, I ask myself daily how can I carry both. What will it look like to be here, now, living, and carry the ache. How can I let it stay, because it just has to, but not be buried under it.

I don’t have the answer, but I think it’s possible, and I think there is room for both.

So, everyday I keep on loving my people, and writing my words. I keep on walking my dogs, and crying with my friends. I keep on laughing and crying with my best friend, the one who keeps me upright. I keep on reminding my kids of a million things and hugging their necks. I keep on turning my face up to the sky, searching for the good around me.

Happy end of summer. May our fall be breathtaking and bewildering in the best ways.

Eating gelato outside the Pantheon in Italy

The Colosseum