A toast

"To your bravery, and a toast, to your grief."

- "Hanging Up"

I started the movie, reminded of how much I miss seeing Walter Mathau, how talented he was; what a gem we lost....the mother of the doc that she nails with her car sits her down for coffee, listens to the worries she carries, and toasts her, with the words of wisdom above. Words, I've been hard pressed to find, yet ones that carry so much gravity and truth.

I visited Memphis. I realize, at 30 weeks pregnant, with the amount of trouble I - we've - had getting this far (and no, I also realize I didn't keep ya'all posted) traveling is the absolute last thing I should be doing, and yet, Mom said she was looking forward to seeing me. Me. Perhaps, in her own "very special" way, she was; in my world...not so much. I still do not care for cherries. In pie. Jam. Jelly. Preserves. I do not take my coffee black. (I do believe this has been well established). I watched, from the tables edge as J went counter top to counter top with her that I indeed did care for cream and sugar in my coffee; I don't care for cherry anything. I love him for that. I hate the pair of them for her believing him, but not me. As J lovingly pointed out, this is the only "me" she knows...the one she's constructed in her head. The "me" in her mind, I'm supposed to be. Should you find yourself at her house, and I'm there in Memphis, and you can't find me? Run your hand along the woodwork; chances are high I'm simply blending into the background somewhere. It's safer, easier, better that way.

Returning from that trip, I've tried to make peace with who she is, and what she is, her personal challenges, how they've shaped herself, me. So a toast, to my bravery, to go to a house I'd not stepped foot in for five years, five years of holiday memories I'm glad I'm not a part of; and to my grief, for not being a part of them, in a way that would have held any meaning for me whatsoever. For not having the mother I needed, either now, or then, but perhaps, being, the mother my little guy needs, whom Jellybean will need, when she arrives.

ps: that will be sooner, rather than later.

I'll skip the gory details: this pregnancy's been a BITCH. I may well be falling apart, she is (thank the good Lord above) perfectly healthy, if not on the wee side. Who can say "wee" without smiling? Who doesn't adore a tiny little peanut? The best surprises are not always found in little velvet boxes, when perhaps, you've an inkling they are coming. Sometimes, it's when you least expect great news, when you've charted a course, only to find, something amazing got placed in your way, that changes the path, alters a course, leads you to a new you not even you knew you were capable of.

I look back, on the last 30 weeks, in awe that I've come this far - as has she - with kidney issues, and C Diff; infections and vomiting. I marvel too, where I found the strength to go on somedays, okay, lots of days; what a miracle it is that she's doing great.

Life isn't perfect, sometimes, it's messy, ugly, overwhelming, and gritty. We all get through it. One day at a time, one minute at a time, one deep breath at a time.

To our strength, and, to our grief.