How deep is that river?

Thanks Fred O for introducing me to the song from which this post is named (By Mason Jennings). I have been listening to it a lot today.

This post is going to be angry and heavy, so if that is not your thing, you might want to click on another Blog (there are lovely ones on the right side).

Someone I know died today. I was not close to him (although he unknowingly had an impact on my life...as proof that there are still good men out there). His death has had a huge impact on me today. I am sure that is from my still fresh wound, but it sucks nonetheless. I don't understand. What the fuck is God doing? Dewayne is married, so his wife is now a widow. Tonight, I am having a really hard time believing that God does not hate women.

We were created to be helpers. So, why am I alone? Why is Cheryl now alone? Why are so many great, great women alone? The very thing that we are created to yearn for is taken away or not given. WHY? What is the purpose? I don't understand. I know that I am supposed to trust and not understand...but I need something. It is getting harder and harder to believe in a God that does things like this. I try hard to do as I believe He is leading me. Where has that gotten me? Alone and sad.

I know, I know...I have great friends and a good job, great apartment, health. I am thankful for those things. But right now, that is not enough. If God has put these yearnings in me, then I want him to show up. Quickly. Because I am not sure how much longer I can be brave and trust him.

I think that this is what is known as a 'crisis of Faith'. Great.

The lyrics to this song can be found here. The ones that have been in my head all day are;
Before I put my trust in you, I just want to know how deep.

yes, how deep?

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you

That REO Speedwagon song has been in my head for days. Strange!

Thanks for all of the kind notes and calls and emails the past few days. I didn't realize that post sounded so sad. That was not my intention, but so be it.

Well, I decided it was time for action. This little funk seems to have settled it's happy ass down and decided to stay for a visit. One things i have learned over the past few years is this- "Fake it till you make it". In other words, do things that you used to enjoy and maybe eventually you will enjoy them again. I am not going to go around smiling and denying that I am unhappy, but I am also not going to give in and go to bed.

Last night I cooked dinner for a 2 close friends and enjoyed their company. I tried not to beat myself up that I had not gone to get drinks with other friends who had invited me. Cooking was good for me, as was some gardening and taking photographs. After dinner, we made butter! I have been wanting to do this for a while, so John decided to teach me (it involves a lot of shaking and some dancing and laughing). Let me tell you, homemade butter is awesome. Creamy and light. I had it on toast for breakfast and was happy.

This weekend I am going canoeing again, something that is very life giving to me. The water, the sun, the trees, using my muscles...I love it. I never used to be an 'outdoorsy' person, but this year I am discovering my inner naturalist and athelete! I am also hoping to have another friend for dinner and beer and laughing.

And The Beatles are helping as well. and Wilco. And Feist. Tristan and J Mraz. G Love. Good, happy summertime music. Well, Wilco Sky Blue Sky isn't happy, but comforting.

These things may not make the sadness go away, but at least it will make it bearable. I don't want to have a year pass me by in a grief induced stupor. My life is different now, but it is still my life. Incoporating the grief into my life seems to be the key to survival. Don't deny it, but don't make a bed for it to sleep in either.

I am sure there will be lots of pictures coming up. I have a few of the butter churning that I need to put up. I am not sure making butter has ever been so physical or hysterical!

you see, i've been to hell and back so many times, I must admit you kind of bore me

I was hoping to have a happier post today, but no such luck. I still feel as I did when I wrote my last post. The tears keep welling up but refusing to free themselves, and me, in the process.

This weekend I did everything that I could to shoo them away. I drank too much, flirted too much...all of the many things that I used to to push them down.

Yet here it is Monday, and I still feel the same way (and hungover!). The good thing is that I recognize my futile attempts to mask my loneliness. That is some growth...a tiny seedling. It is making me laugh a little to see how easily I turn back to the things that I search for solace in. Unhealthy things that I was sure I was done with. As though the last 5 months has erased these tendencies and I am past them. Not so much. It is only when I think that do I get into trouble. My pride weakens me. I am grateful that I can see them for what they are, laugh at my foibles and try again to resist.

I am hopeful.

I will leave you with a picture of the bounty that I brought home (free!) after Brewfest. Too bad the thought of drinking one makes my pounding head pound ever harder...

A little note

Have you ever felt like crying for no reason whatsoever? That is how I feel tonight. The tears are so close. Nothing has happened to make these tears come tonight, it is more of a heaviness that I know will linger. As though these tears may take away some of the weight of the past 5 months, a general weariness that sometimes I forget about.

Just sending this to the great abyss out there.

Good night abyss.

24 hour Elisa may cause nausea

Many of you have been asking me about yesterday and sending your love and support. Thank you so much, friends. I feel that an update is wanted, but, alas, is not coming. It is not that I don't want to share my day, it's just that I am a little sick of me. This blog is becoming a bit too Elisa-centric. I know, I know, what the hell did I start a blog for? That is a very good question. All I know is that right now I want a break from myself and the constant introspection and explanation and whatnot.

I will however, tell of one highlight of the day, which was more restful and also more sad than I anticipated.

After work, I went for a bike ride. A little exercise, some nature; it seemed perfect. And it was. I went along Jemison trail and was moving right along, ducking trees and smelling the honeysuckle and remembering happy things about the last year of my life. About a 1/3 of the way, I had the option to go 'off road' and take a side trail. so I did...and promptly laid my bike down. Not just a little fall, either. A major 'sliding along the dirt and sticks with your bike on top of you for at least 5 feet' affair. I just laid there, stunned for a minute before surveying the damage. All limbs were fine, bike seemed to be in one piece. However, I had gravel firmly planted in both of my palms and one entire leg was scraped (even under my pants) and my ankle and knee were throbbing. What did I do? Laugh. my ass off. I just laid there laughing. and shaking a bit.
I was only 1/3 in and I really wanted to continue my ride, so I cleaned out my hand cuts with my water and shirt, dusted myself off, made some minor adjustments to the bike...and kept on going. A bit down the trail a little girl saw me and started crying "Daddy, that girl is bleeding! Why?!". I looked down to see that I did, in fact, have blood running down my arm and leg. Oh well, such is life. I trudged on, and still enjoyed myself immensely. I was proud of my fall (I have been waiting for it to happen since I got the bike) and I felt a little like a bad-ass (you know how I love that!). I even went much further along the path than normal, carrying my ride across the stream again (stopping to again clean off the wounds).

The whole time I was doing it I thought "Scott would love this." He never made me feel silly for doing crazy things and when I told him that I felt brave, instead of rolling his eyes or making a little comment, he would look at me and say "you are brave".
Scott, my bloody bad ass ride was for you.

Coming soon: musings on Alabama vegetables and what the hell to do with Turnip greens that come dirty from the ground with roots attached!

Not so usual

Not too much to write currently. Times are hard right now. Scott's birthday is next Tuesday, and next Saturday is the day I was supposed to be married. I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is actually my life. I find that I am better at choosing safety, but sometimes safety seems boring. Something to get used to, I guess. To learn and practice.

Things are quiet in my life and subdued. I am looking forward to Jazz Fest this weekend. A few days of sun and music (Stevie Wonder!) and beer and amazing food certainly can't hurt right now. oh, and dresses. Light, cotton dresses.

This post may sound hopeless, but I'm not. I know that one day this will be redeemed and soon enough the laughter will come easily. Just not today.

sucks.

My garden is growing like crazy though. That is fun to watch and be a part of. I also get to go to a Birthday Celebration for a friend tonight. Happy Birthday Charlotte!

ciao friends

Weekend round-up

This weekend was full of friends and parties and art and weirdness. I am exhausted, physically and emotionally, so forgive me if this entry is a bit spacey.

Friday my friend Jenn came to stay with me. Jenn has been in Malawi, Africa for six months as a missionary, so I was very glad to see her. So glad that I gave up my Friday night routine for her! She, Carrie and I talked and laughed and caught up until the wee hours (or midnight, which seems really late these days).

Saturday we both slept till 11! Then we got up and sat outside in my garden area and ate veggie omelets and drank too much coffee for a few hours. I caught her up on my life (when she left I had just gotten engaged, so lots has happened...), and it was a lovely morning. Around 2:30, we decided to get dressed and go to lunch. An afternoon with good food and shopping and bookstore browsing commenced. This was followed by a going away party for Brent at Cal's house. It was very nice, with different groups of people and babies and food and cigars and beer. I floated in and out of all of the groups and generally had a good time.

I am in such a weird place right now. I am simply not very comfortable in big groups. This is a big change for me, as I have always been very social and am really good in big groups. Now however, I feel out of place. I know that it is because I am changing so much and trying to fit the changes into my life, but it still sucks. I am either really quiet (which I am ok with), or I become 'life of the party' Elisa. Center of attention, joking, being silly. I DO NOT like this Elisa. One day I will be able to be that person again in public, but now it feels strange and I want to crawl under a rock. My life feels quieter, so I am more comfortable being quieter and calmer. Does that even make sense? Anyway, the party was really nice and it was good to see old friends and get to talk to Brent and wish him well.

Sunday was brunch with a family that I love. They are family to me, and I am so grateful to have them in my life. There is something beautiful about being able to go to someone's house and be 'Sisa', and eat food with them and be with them as they go about regular life. Help myself to their coffee and read stories with their kids. I love it. Later, after a lovely hour on the Starbucks patio, Jenn and I went to Magic City Art Connection. It was my first time there and I really dug it. I bought some lovely jewelry, some as gifts for others, some as gifts for me. On to church. Again, it was nice. The sermon was about Death, and I think that I have some questions for Tom, but will deal with that later...

After church I went to Surin with my friend Liz and her Community Group. Again, a big crowd. Again, hilarious Elisa was out. I had a good time,but was a bit awkward being around young married couples, as my wedding date was to be 2 weeks from Saturday. I am gearing up for a sucky start to May. Scott's birthday is the 6th, wedding date on the 10th, Honeymoon 12-20. sigh. I don't want those days to come and go. I don't want to wake up on May 10 and go canoing instead of get married. I want to have my wedding and wear my dress and dance to The Spots and become his wife and start our lives together. That is what I want.

I digress.

All in all, a nice weekend. Bittersweet. One of the best parts was realizing how much I love my apartment and what retreat from the world it is. Well, I am exhausted tonight and looking forward to resting a bit this week. Next weekend is Jazz Fest(!) and I am very much looking forward to that. I do love Festival Season!

Thanks friends, for sticking with this. Thanks for the beers and the support and for letting me be melancholy or silly or loud or insecure or honest or awkward or quiet. It is appreciated. Have a great week!

The girl that is me

Hello friends (and blogger stalkers!). I just returned to my cozy little abode from a concert. Who? you ask. Tristan Prettyman. I have loved her since her first album came out a couple years ago. Mellow, sweet, upbeat, summertime music. I discovered her because she did duets with guys I LOVE, G Love and Jason Mraz.
Tonight's show was at the always wonderful Workplay Theater (ok, putting links in is a huge pain in the ass...if we were writing a note to our friends, we would just mention it...in this new medium, you have to give credit and links and other time sucking things. I digress). It was a small, very intimate show and she was endearing. Her album, Madly, is doing well and she was giddy about it. Adorable, and so talented. Plus, her dress was awesome.
Opening for her was an Australian cutie called Whitley, whose name, I am sorry to say, is Lawrence (oh come on...I had to!). He is a very big 'pop star' in Australia and I thoroughly enjoyed his set. I may or may not have flirted with him at the merch table. His music was great and he told funny stories about getting drunk and singing karaoke at Starz (where he went to 'meet girls'!). Then he started playing and opened his mouth and we all shut the hell up. His voice was smoky, dirty and smooth. I went out after his set and immediately bought an album (when the alleged flirting took place). This post is so random and fragmented...and I have had nothing to drink, I promise.

The Tristan show was good, but (like most things right now) bittersweet. Scott and I danced to her and I once forced a 'movie moment' on us to one of her songs (long story that mostly involves me being a silly girl). These moments are going to keep on coming and I am going to keep on surviving them. Soon they won't happen as often and then they won't seem so terrible, and then one day they will just be fond memories of a boy I loved. Jeez, heavy posts lately, huh? Well, that is my life. If you want happy you will have to look for it elsewhere. I can give you authentic, or nothing. Joy, sadness, grief, longing, redemption. Nope, fake happiness is not on the menu...

I leave you with a video of Tristan, since I have no idea how to embed an mp3. Fred, a little assistance on this...?

this is Always Feel this Way. The song I forced a romantic moment to! Enjoy

Simple as it should be

I love this face. and I miss it.

He looks so happy here. Carefree and light. The boy I fell in love with. I almost don't remember him like this, but everyday I remember it a little more.

People ask me if I have any romance in my life. I was talking to a friend about this, and she said "You do have a love interest. He happens to have died, but he is still your love interest". Yes, he is.

I was always so worried about him and his health. Any little stomachache would have me in a tailspin, worrying his cancer was back, or his immune system was still messed up. My greatest fear was his death. I would cry just thinking about it. Now is is a reality in my life, in a way that I never would have imagined. How does life stray so far from the way we picture it?

Last night I spent time with dear friends, and we started talking about how much I have changed in 2 years. I am not sure that I would recognize that self walking down the street. I think of things that I did and things that I let happen and I am stunned. At the time of intense change, I couldn't imagine things being better. Yet here I am, thankful that those things have changed. I am sure that that story would have also been beautiful, but I would never have learned the things I learned and become the person that I am today. Someone who is more sure of herself than ever. Someone who won't be put aside and told she is not good enough. Someone who doesn't straighten her hair everyday and rides a bike in a skirt. Who prefers gardens over bars and beer over martinis.

I don't know what I was trying to say in this post. I started with a picture and here we are, miles from where I thought I would be. Seems about right.

Carrie sent me this saying that she thought fit me. I love it, and want to have it letterpressed and hung in my house, over my bed. It is this:

fluctuat nec mergitur
"Tossed by the waves, she does not sink."

then she said that she wished my tossing were more like surfing! I have always wanted to surf...