what to say.
i could write about our girls night out last week. we all arrived slowly, and laughed in length, and cried with ease because being honest has become much easier than hiding (a feat that has taken years to achieve). i could write about sam’s birthday and how we had so many of our favorite people in our home and i couldn’t stop smiling because of so much motion, so much moving and commotion. so many bodies swarming in and out of the kitchen, chopping vegetables, mixing sauces, and sampling each others ribs, roasted potatoes and homemade bbq sauce. it was a Parenthood kind of evening and really what could be better than that? i could write about a series of texts that left me heavy and empty and helpless and how words on a screen can be equally as difficult to experience than real life with all of its breath and expressions and touch. and words are just words, but behind them sent from far away is a person pushing letters in tears and a world of life separates you from them and those words, “it didn’t work,” means that her heart broke, again, but probably deeper than all the other times before. i could write about how it was Easter and little samuel insisted on wearing a tie and insisted also on wearing one crock and one flip flop to church. i could write about how my husband’s birthday fell on the same Sunday and how we walked along the Encinitas coast, coffee in hand and we sat, feet dangling, on life guard tower 16. we watched the water moving and i thought about how our hearts move like the sea, constant and clear, tumultuous yet contained. and when we kissed with our eyes closed it felt like we were 20 again.
i could write about all these things, what we did and wore and had to eat, but i can’t write about what it means to me. i can’t. i can’t begin to put words to what love is like, and what loving is like, and what being loved it like. i’ve tried, but it all comes out flat and fumbled. so even on this tuesday when my headache persists and the day seems blank before me, i remember my week and the moments and all the seconds my eyes fell in sync with so many i love, and how we took in the blaze from the fire pit in our unfinished backyard, and i let these memories do their best to explain that place in me that feels so unexplainable.