Sweet Summer Memory

Really, I can almost taste them.  Blueberry picking was one of the highlights of my summer!  Just looking at these photos takes me back to the field on that warm, muggy day.

Ellie's technique was to hold the bucket with one hand, insert blueberries with the other.

Come back, Great Grandma - you know you miss this!

(shameless tactic, I know)

Wren slept like a little angel the whole time (those eyelashes!!)

and woke up super excited for a hay bale photo-op.

And Into the Light

My apologies about the photos.  I wasn't focused on documenting the day as much as I was on being present in it.

Life has been full of firsts since Mom died.  I went to my first support group at the beginning of the month.  It was a strange experience - sitting with these other people who had suffered a loss similar to my own.  Not the same loss, (because no one experiences it in exactly the same way) but there was still an uncomfortable sort of camaraderie.  Not sure it was exactly healing, but it wasn't terrible either.

I'm glad I went though, because it was in this meeting that I learned about the Out of the Darkness benefit walk that was happening in Ithaca just a few days later.  I decided I wanted to do something to honor my mother, to feel like I was helping.  So I signed up to walk.  I put a little note up on Facebook, just in case anyone wanted to donate.

I was shocked by the feedback.  Moved to tears, really.  The outpouring of support from friends was more than I could have ever hoped for.  And I know they wouldn't want me to make a big deal about it, but I'd like to list them here, so I'll forever have a record of how many people showed their love and support in such a tangible way.

Jim Aronson

Rachel Erickson

Bea Ward

Jessica Hernandez

Holly Flanagan

Allison Barnes

Leila McCarrey

Deb Black

Sarah Hawks

Megan Trueblood

Carly Maready

April Dickson

Carrie Todd

Kimberly (and Matt) Teitter

Andrew Marshall

Derrick Turley

Caitlin Jones

And the three anonymous donations which I will attribute to every person I've ever known.

Because you are often surprised by the people who will help you when you need it.

And the people who couldn't donate, but still sent a kind thought in my direction.

I felt those generous wishes as well.

If I had a garden and a butt-load of money, I'd install benches with your names on them.  That is how much your kindness and generosity mean to me.  Thank you, thank you - from the bottom of my heart.

So the day came for my first suicide prevention walk - and I was a bit of a mess.  As soon as we got there I broke into tears.  I cried because I didn't want to have to be there, honoring someone I hadn't wanted to lose.  We were given colored beads according to the reason we were there.  Gold if you had lost a parent, red for those who lost a spouse, white for the mourning parents, and blue for those who were there to raise awareness and make a change.  I cried when they read the names of all the loved ones we were there to remember.  Far too many names.  Cried to see their photographs on the memory quilts.  Smiling faces with troubled, weary eyes.  The first part of that morning was so very hard.

Then, we walked.

There is something quite healing about the walk itself.  Feeling the fresh air and the wind on my face.  Spending time outside with my family, moving in a direction, allowing my grief to subside as I focused on the beating of my own heart and rejoiced that we are all still here together.

During the walk I told Joe that sometimes I feel like I don't fit in this group of survivors of suicide loss.  Because unlike the sudden and surprising act that took so many of their loved ones - the way she left was much slower in my mind.  Almost an eventuality at the end of her steady, years-long decline.  We discussed that to really honor her memory, I'd like to do some meaningful work in the field of addiction.  For it was a combination of addiction and depression that plagued my mother for so many years, that eventually led to her premature passing.

We talked about planting a tree, about making final arrangements for a headstone, about how we could continue to honor her as the years pass, about how important it is for those of us still here to feel we have a connection to those on the other side.  She is fine, I know.  It's the rest of us I feel for.

After the walk, everyone's spirits were brightened.  We had hot dogs and listened to talks by the people who sit on the other end of that phone line - people who give their time because they really do care.  That was a strong theme of the day.  That people care, and there is always somewhere you can turn to find a listening ear and an understanding heart.  Over three hundred of us walked that day, and together we raised more than $13,000 for research, for outreach programs, for the hope that the future can be brighter than the past.  What a day!  It was hard and it was beautiful.  And it felt so good to do something.

Getting Our Feet Wet

Just here to check in with everyone. Yes we made it to Ithaca, and it is the place of our dreams!  There hasn't been time for blogging because we are too busy soaking in everything this town has to offer. We've visited the farmer's market, local waterfalls, botanical gardens, free music in the center of town, and just today we went blueberry picking.

Don't worry - there's a whole post lined up about that.

I wanted to let you know all know that we are busy settling in and we're all happy and excited for our new adventure. The walls in our apartment have a new coat of paint, and I even planted my own little balcony garden. Really, life is full of the most remarkable beauties. I feel blessed to see them each day.

Wren has been soaking up the time with her great-grandma.

I've been wearing the friendship bracelet Holly sent me, 

to remind myself that good friends can be found anywhere.

Look at my little beans! I am so proud of them.

And now a quick question for my photographer friends out there: The last two posts have featured photos from my new camera (hooray for upgrading!) and the file sizes are so big that when I size them down for the blog they seem hyper-sharpened.  They look digi-sharpened.  I like a bit of a softer look - or at least I'd like to still have a reason to use unsharp mask now and then.  Do you guys notice this?  Have you had any similar experiences?  What is your advice?

I'll be back soon to check in.  Meanwhile - come visit me!  I promise you'll love it here.

Saying Goodbye

This post has been running through my head for days now, but I'm not sure how to say it.  I'm not sure I can condense it down enough so that anyone would be interested in reading.

How do I say goodbye to this place?

Well, first let's start with why.  I had plans to make an official announcement on my blog months ago, complete with the film images I shot of us apple picking upstate last fall.  But the roll of film is still undeveloped (go figure).  So news spread a bit at a time and now a lot of you already know, but I'm still going to brag about it here.

This guy...

(always looking for an excuse to post a handsome photo of him)

...was accepted to Cornell University!

Not just accepted, but offered an amazing fellowship as well.  I am so very proud of him.  I was proud of him for the job he landed that brought us here, and now I am proud again for his achievements, his drive, and his overall amazing-ness.  But this move - it is very hard to make.

I will miss New York City more than I thought I would.  It's only been two years, but already this place feels like home in so many ways.  I'll miss our neighborhood - the sweet Jewish couples on either side of us, even the somber rabbi that Ellie called Santa a few months ago.  I'll miss the woman down the hall with the beautiful sleeve of tattoos and her charming curly-headed daughter.  I'll miss Bennett playground with the helicopter parents that have become so familiar.  The old ladies sunning in the park who bless my children as we walk by.  On a bright, breezy day there is no place better to walk than our little neighborhood. I'll miss the cabbies on 187th and the smell of laundry on the street.

Of course there are lots of smells and sights I will not miss when we leave here, but why spoil a good post by mentioning them? (I'll just remind myself of those things when I'm buried in snow upstate)

I plan on posting a list of my NYC favorites, but it's not the museums or parks or anything else that has made living here completely unforgettable.  It is the people. They are what we will miss the most.  What is it about this city that attracts the most vibrant, interesting people in the world?  How were we lucky enough to know so many phenomenal human beings in our short stay here?

Ellie even found love in NYC.

Oh Bea.

There are lots of photos of her here.

An entire post could be devoted to how much this woman means to me.

But I know she hates sentimental goodbyes.

So we'll just leave it at this:

My girls sure love her.  And so do I.

Our friends here have been like family in so many ways.  I love each of them and we have all shared so much in these brief two years.  They have been companions in adventure and helping hands in times of need.  There are far too many stories to recount here.  So much laughter, a fair amount of tears; hugs and meals and advice passed across the mother's lounge.  The give and take of everyday life that makes a friendship well worn and comfortable - how readily I found that here.

I think it's hard to imagine leaving because I feel that here is where I really began to grow into myself. 

I remember standing at the top of the subway stairs when we first arrived here, completely lost as to how I should get myself and my baby down to the platform.  Now I lift the stroller without hesitation and feel the strength of my arms and the determination in my gut.  I am more sure-footed than I was two years ago.  More comfortable in my own skin.  More open to experiencing all that life has to offer.  NYC has taught me that I have the strength to do it alone, but also that it's a small miracle to rely on the kindness of strangers and passers-by.  It's here that I worked up the gumption to birth my baby at home, to chase a dream, to wear jeans that taper at the ankle.  So much LIFE has happened here and I will take it with me.  I'll pack it away within my heart and take the pulse of the city along as I go.  Turning toward the next adventure, I feel so grateful for everything this place has taught me. 

My home is wherever these people are.  And now that we've made it in NYC, I can't wait to see how we'll make it home, wherever we are.

Birthday Eve

Hi friends - it's me.  See me up there? I'm rowing in Central Park.

Well, Joe is rowing.

I am posing for photos.

So it's my birthday tomorrow.  I'm sitting here thinking about how 25 didn't feel as epic as I thought it would.  For some reason I thought 25 would be the peak of my young adulthood.  It was definitely not the year I was expecting.  And tomorrow I will be 26.  I don't think I'll feel much different from the way I feel now.  Strange thing, birthdays.

I wonder if I'll think of Mom tomorrow.  Afterall, she did a lot of the work on my birthday - the work of getting me here.  Maybe I'll summon the courage to crack open my baby book and read the handwritten birth story she recorded.  But maybe I'll save that for another day.  I've never read it, and I wonder how her thoughts about bringing life into the world will seem to me now.  Now that I have brought forth life and hers is no more.  A lot can happen in 25 years.

I had a much different plan for how this year would go for me - even made a list of things I'd hoped to accomplish.  I did birth that baby (a story I've been meaning to share, but have yet to sit down to) And I did a lot of reading.  My favorite books were In Defense of Food and This I Believe.  I didn't make it to another country or go sailing but I did pick apples in the fall.  I purchased a couple different eyeliners but have yet to open any of them.  The list I made last year looks so girlish to me now.  So naive.  It's as though years have passed instead of months.  I know I'm not that much wiser than I was a year ago, but I have figured out one thing.

I am not in control.  Of any of it.  I could write a whole novel about all the things I once thought I could control but have since realized I cannot.  Suffice it to say, this year there is no real list.  Nothing I can check off.  This year I will continue my journey toward living the most authentic life I can muster.  There is so much to learn about surrender and acceptance and love.  My goals for 26 are not as defined as they were for 25.  But if I had to put them in writing, it would look something like this.

                                                            

                                                                More digging in the dirt.

                                                                    More deep breaths.

                                                              Less television.

                                                                  More books.

                                                             More letters.

                                                      Less internet.

                                                          More inward reflection.

                                                                           Less comparison.

                                                   More art and laughter and creation.

                                                                   Less consumption.

                                                         More time outside.

                                                              Less drive for perfection.

                                                         More hugs.

                                                               More giving and receiving.

                                                         More honesty.

                                                                More abundance.

I don't know how to end a post like this, so here is a photo of Joe.  I don't talk about him much here, but he is absolutely my solid place. 25 would have been unbearable without him.  The kindness of his heart comes right through his eyes, and I am so grateful that he's mine.

I love him so much, in fact, that I accidentally picked out glasses identical to his. 

So now when people see us on the street, there is no mistaking that we are a match.

Lucky me.

How She Grows

Well, this little one will be 7 months old tomorrow.  But today she is still 6 months old, so in my mind that makes it more OK for me to show how much she's grown in the last few months.  Poor Wren, the classic second child.  I do take plenty of pictures of her.  It's just not always a photo shoot, and it's not always on the day she hits a milestone, and it's not always with my professional camera.  But there are benefits to being the second child as well - so I think she'll turn out just fine.

Here we have a little collection of photos (point and shoot, SLR, and phone images)to show how my sweet bird has grown.  Prepare your heart - it's melting time.

4 months old

Spit up on the face - a common occurrence for little Wren.

Also common - the concerned face.

It is the expression she wears most.

But when she's not worried, she is SUPER smiley!

5 months old

Those eyelashes, those teeth, that super efficient scoot.

At 5 months she was a full fledged baby.

6 months old

She is adventurous, smiley and super cuddly with her momma.  She is growing her top two eye teeth before the middle.  So right now she looks like a hillbilly, but I hope she'll be a vampire in time for Halloween.  Her dark hair always elicits comments, as do her Disney princess eyes.  She likes to wrestle with her dad and Ellie and hates to be left out of a party.  On the verge of crawling, but I think she won't do that long before she stands.  She chirps when she's happy and squawks when she's angry and has an ear piercing cry if you can't figure it out quickly.  She is our tiny adorable bird, and we are so very glad she's ours.  We love you, Wren Josephine!