Giving Birth To Yourself

photo from http://www.orangebeautiful.blogspot.com/

Last Thanksgiving, I was hanging out in San Diego with families in their wet suits frying turkies on charcoal grills on the beach. I once read a "tip" in Real Simple or some such magazine to send cards out for holidays other than the winter ones. So I sent a bunch of Thanksgiving cards, as the holiday that year with spending Thanksgiving morning at The San Diego Zoo (?) seemed fitting.
I received an email reply from an acquaintance of mine who had become a friend via email. She said "Happy Thankgiving" and in other news, she had just been assaulted by someone she knew. I stood there in disbelief, and then in further disbelief that I was so suprised. Did I think that because my situation has been "settled" in a court of law that no one else in my life would ever be assaulted? I guess I kind of did. I guess I thought that if I kept telling my story, volunteering, giving myself to others that those others were protected. Not so.
I wish I could tell you all the details of how lovely and talented this person is, and how quickly I loved her heart. It colors everything she makes. Just recently she filled me in on what she had to do to get her life back and have some semblance of normalcy. I am so proud of the decisions that she made, and as difficult and as challenging as they must have been, she's pushing through the black.
Some days I get emails from strangers and they shake me to the core. And then there's a Thanksgiving when I open email from a friend and I feel like there is the world that we talk about about and pretent to live in, and then the world where our bodies are taken from us and there's no sign of it stopping any time soon.
With no support from our society, we are rebuilding our homes over and over again and under every layer of paint is another yellow wallpaper . If you know/remember how that story goes, in 1892 the story was rejected by several editors, one of whom supposedly claimed that "the story made him feel "miserable", and therefore did not want society to be subjected to similar feelings." That could have been written today.

Things to be thankful for: green kitchens, chalkboards, pirate sticks and joyful hearts

David and Liz: intrigued?

David writing a pirate poem

by the pond with swans and ducks

For the holidays, David and I headed back East to drop in to my sister's Saturday Night Fever and brave Penn Station at the very same time that Manhattan let out early for the holidays. Bags fully packed with stuffing, no free hands, we had much to give, and much to be thankful for. At the end of the road (track) was East Hampton, and the house we were to spend Thankgiving with Liz and all in the family. It was a rustic colonial just a few miles from town-Walbaum's, Breezin' Up, Scoop, JCrew by the Sea, and a ton of other quaint retail stores I know and love that did not call my name. I was too busy having fun--either laughing and gasping for air, or doing the thousand yard stare. Both were acceptable, nothing was expected. I was grateful, touched, and so very happy to spend the holidays exactly where we were meant to be.

There were moments where I watched two co-survivors bond over our situations, and how it affected them both. There were moments where all I wanted to do was collect leaves and take photographs. There were late nights and brisk early mornings warmed by the sounds of the cutest angel pirate artist soccer girl on this planet. There was no internet, no phone calls--we put our obligations aside and did what every family should do more of--not just on holidays, but ordinary days--we spent time with each other. We talked, laughed, ate, drank, played in the leaves, never needing to think, "What do we do next?"

I guess I don't really have words for this time. I've always called the trial the fifth season. So in celebration of all that is joyous--like warm boots, sweaters, holga cameras, red wine, washable magic markers, pirate sticks and golden leaves --- I'll just say that this year, the season to be merry began when I was giving thanks for all the love and support from David, and Liz and co. for the longest list of things for me to be thankful for.