yesterday, & i feel alive

yesterday was the first north carolina day with a hint of autumn. mom & i headed up to charlotte for the southern women's show with heron. heron, being the social youngster that she is, seemed up for it (if she's surrounded by people fawning over her, she's happy--so happy she won't sleep, actually. like christmas). dressed in a handmade onesie with a green bird (thanks, rachael), brown diaper cover, and blue & brown striped babylegs (alert! gender-neutral!), everyone thought she was a boy. so we bought her a tutu (pictures forthcoming). we continued our night out on the town with dinner at a peruvian restaurant* while josh enjoyed an evening alone on the porch with his guitar, brie & crackers, 90-minute IPA, and later watched an action film. it was girls' night out--three generations of ramsdale ladies.

yesterday was also the 19th of the month, meaning five months exactly since dad's death. but yesterday something felt different. it felt like the new autumnal sun & breeze blew aside the veil that's been over my face. i haven't known how to describe this really, only that i've felt distant from other people, like i'm carrying a secret. i'm not engaged, not fully present in conversations. i haven't even been able to see deeply into other people's eyes, even josh's. like there's always a thin film or fuzz between me & others as i deal silently with my grief. i knew it wasn't depression, or anything post-partum-related. i've known it was specific to dad's death, though it was a vague feeling, & i often even told myself that i was doing "okay". most of the time i haven't been fully conscious of any mourning process, but rather, simply, there's been a lack of joy, a lack of depth in life, something that maybe only i could notice.

yesterday i ended the day telling josh that i wasn't sure what had happened, or how, but i finally felt alive again. myself, & full of joy. the how is probably something as simple as time, along with tears, prayers, memories, conversations with josh, & a little healer named heron selah. Lord, i love her. & i love her in her tutu.

i don't know if the mourning is over--will it ever really be? but somehow yesterday i moved into a new country where the veil is gone, & i feel excited about the things that lie ahead here... excited especially about life with my beautiful family: me, josh, & little blue heron.

* lomo saltado, fried yuca, aji, maduros fritos & inca kola, if you'd like to know, with mana playing on the radio.