I love Saturdays and Sundays. (Crazy, right??) I love sunny days. I especially love sunny Saturdays and Sundays. To me, they are inches away from heaven. We sleep in and wake up to the sun warming the hardwood floors with sunbeams I can lie in. Scarlet calls out to us, pleasantly, and not at all crying or frantic. We turn off our sound machine to listen to her rehash the previous days’ events to her stuffed animals. We finally get up and bring her downstairs and then we three eat a scattered but somewhat together breakfast of various delicious things. The days is ours to hold. This weekend wasn’t warm but it was sunny and it was Saturday and Sunday so it felt almost as good. But just almost.
I can’t focus on just one subject for this blog post, hence the title. There’s just a lot of random bits floating around my head.
For one, there’s pain. There is pain that I know well. I know what it’s like to lose a father, and not only that, to only know a life without him. I know what it’s like to never have known your father. But I don’t know what it’s like to lose a father you have known from childhood into adulthood. I don’t know what it’s like to have a lover or soulmate or ex pass away. It’s a pain I cannot fathom but people experience it every day. I don’t know what it’s like to have a friend pass away. My sister lost a best friend a few years back and I was in shock at the thought. Your friends are who you call when you lose a loved one…they’re not supposed to be the lost loved ones. She was only 21. It still angers me.
There is a new kind of pain I have grown to know as an adult. I call it secondhand pain. It’s the pain I feel when a close friend loses a loved one. It’s a sure shock to the system. It shows me that I love my friend a lot. And love hurts. It also might show me a bit of my own pain. If a friend loses a grandparent or father, I may feel sad for myself as well. Two years ago, one of my best friends in the world lost her mother and while I don’t know that specific pain, I’m still in shock. I still feel like I was punched in the stomach. Yesterday, a newer friend lost her father. He was/is a UConn fan. Never in my life was I more emotionally invested in a basketball game than I was last night. I drank framboise and toasted to this family who has managed to crawl into my frozen heart. I guess it’s not really that frozen.
So there’s that on my mind. And then there are other things. Not painful things.
There are things I’m loving right now.
The way her intense (hazel?) eyes, little chin dimple and freshly washed hair look in the morning light.
I’m loving the world defrosting.
And I’m loving extreme close-ups.
I’m loving striped tights and denim dresses (jumpers in British!) on Saturday mornings and staying in pajamas on lazy like Sunday mornings:
And lastly, I’m loving house guests. Having house guests is pretty much our default setting for the next few months. And I love that. I love shopping in downtown Northampton and preparing a big Bowman breakfast which usually includes all or any of the following: farm animal shaped waffles or cinnamon french toast, fluffy, slow-cooked scrambled eggs, hash browns, fruit, bagels, toasted coconut cream coffee, bacon. More bacon. Bacon. Are you all inviting yourselves over yet? You really should. We don’t do it half-assed. This morning we had the pleasure of serving breakfast to the devastatingly good-looking newlyweds Aunt Marisa and Uncle Matt. Scarlet likes them. Just a little.
Stealing two cellphones. (One isn’t enough)
And that, my friends, is how it is.