23 February 2012

on frosted lawns and chocolatey goodness.



the useful thing about grief is how it shucks our decorum clean off and drops us on each other's doorsteps, these shelled, skinny, honest things. i was thinking about this last week, how vulnerable and themselves everyone was at the funeral, and also how i've somehow won the family lottery because even when--or really especially when--they're laid bare, i am awfully fond of these people.

brother nate (it's a hobby of mine to make him sound vaguely franciscan) shouldered my bags to the car, and he'd been up to that sort of business all week: working in the background of every scene, quietly carrying and assisting and arranging travel details. he's a good one, that nate.

and then there's my cousin's wife, who made sure no one cried alone. my mom and aunt and uncles, transparent and generous in their sadness. my aunt kay, whose laugh jumpstarts the rest of us. cousin keith, who preached that funeral with so much hope. the mister's parents, logging a good five hours on the road to show up and hug us.

they're so much goodness that i don't even the tiniest bit deserve, but i am totally not giving them back. :)


[i do not know why i have grass pictures for you today, other than it was frosty out, and with all that pretty light, and my back lawn was speaking to me. these things happen.]



also speaking to me: the easiest fruit dip ever. we were recently gifted with a couple jars of nutella, which is already Beautiful Stuff in its own right, but if you introduce your glob of nutella to your glob of greek yogurt and let them mingle a bit, you arrive at a marginally healthier take on Wonderful.





and that is pretty much all i've got for you right now. 'tis true, i'm hosting a tropical storm of weighty, swirly stuff in this heart-o-mine, but mostly it's half baked and too early to share. but soon.

have a beautiful thursday, my dears. thanks for sticking with me.

15 comments:

Marie said...

oh, you have such a beautiful voice! made even more beautiful by the way you tend to weave the truths that you learn into poetic prose.

i know where you are, we lost a grandparent this week too.

Jodi@ underthegeorgiasun.com said...

My heart and sympathy goes out to you and your family. I know how hard it is to lose a grandmother, especially one that is so entwined into your heart. Family is so wonderful and it's great to feel God's love through them and know you're not alone.

And thank you for the new fruit dip recipe. I'm always up for new way to eat Nutella. ;o)

Small Town Joy: said...

praying you up.

have a day filled with good things around every corner.

memories too.

xxoo

hannah singer said...

such comfort here. even in the fruit dip;)
praying for you this instant, friend. may today be a day filled with sweetness and fresh strength. love you!

happygirl said...

God bless you and brother nate and your cousin who cries. It is so good to have loved ones to hold you in grief. I love the way you wrote this. I think Nutella is yummy, too.

Brandee Shafer said...

I teared up at the part about your man's parents. My grandad happened to die around the same time as my brother's wedding, and my brother's new in-laws followed my entire family eight hours north for the funeral. I've never forgotten that: how their daughter had only been married in for about 6 hours, and they'd already adopted all of us.

You know I love you. I'm praying.

carissa at lowercase letters said...

gorgeous writing my dear. loss stings so deeply; i know it all too well. i'm so sorry. may you find comfort in the Comforter. xoxo.

kendal said...

oh, nic. so sorry for your loss. the change that comes with loss is so hard. stopping to pray for you right now.

(and nutella in ANY form is delight)

Katie @ minivan diva said...

seriously gorgeous words and photos.

lulu and family said...

beautiful thursday, friday, and weekend to you!

Nantucket Daffodil said...

So sorry for your loss. thanks for sharing from the heart.

lauren said...

i just realized that i have had the last THREE posts of yours read and just when i have pulled up the comment tab to let you know how much your words speak to my day and your pictures unwrap my heart-- that is when i get pulled out to do one of the many things that i get pulled out to do. i know you get it. :) but know 100 times over that any time i come to this space i leave feeling like i have swum a deep ocean of of God's love for me. truly.

emily wierenga said...

i love the frosty grass... it reminds me of heaven. what the grass in heaven might look like, and where we'll all go and dance and sing and eat nutella together one day. i love you nic.

Jennifer said...

Such tender and beautiful thoughts. I'm so very sorry for your loss.

Many blessings to you and your dear family!

keLi said...

you go ahead and tropical storm away ... i like a lady who mixes her grief with chocolate. :)