Thursday, March 25, 2010

Shattered Plates

I am going to have a happy day.
A happy, beautiful, brilliant day.

But I know there are some that won't.

My Brother's nephew was killed in a car 
accident yesterday.  I don't know him.  But I know
His aunt Becky, my brothers wife, and she is
Brave and Beautiful.

My friends father is dying.  I don't know him
but I know his daughter and she is Brave and Beautiful too.

I have known loss and heartache and grief,
that could never be spoken of on these pages~

Because their mine...
and now their Gods...
Because I gave them to him.
With the help of his Son.

Before he took them from me...
He let me feel them until I thought my heart 
would shatter in a million Pieces.

Just like the plate mom shattered 
at her cancer retreat.  The host let her pick out a beautiful antique plate~
My mother loved Antiques...

And then she was given a hammer and told to break it...
into a million pieces.

"This is your life" they told her...
and she felt sad, angry and hopeless.
Then they brought out the morter and told her to create something beautiful out of it.
And she did.  But she was still a little sad.  A lot sad.

"This is your new life"...
This shattered plate has been made beautiful again.
Different than you ever dreamed.  But beautiful non the less. 

Why? Why do they call grief...heartache?
Because Everything aches~
Your stomach
your neck
your head
your throat...I call this piano throat, because that is what you swallow when you swallow grief.
Even your breath. Every single breath you take...
feels like your lungs will collapse.

I have beautiful women in my life, that know first hand what it feels like to shatter a plate.
But those are their stories to share.  They shared them with me and I will never Ever be the same.
They are my sisters.  Because you can't glue a plate back together without Sisters.

And I will never forget the cold winter~
They got on a plane...
And brought me Spring.
This one is for you~
And for all of my sisters that make my plate whole again...every single day.


  1. geez.. you've got me all teared up at working reading this.

    this is beautiful. greif is bitter sweet. the sweet is what we learn about ourselves after it's all said and done. :)


  2. I am so grateful people with your talent have the ability to feel deep, deep pain and come out of it with new vision so you can help the rest of us put words to our pain. Thank you for enduring so you can help the rest of us endure as well.

  3. LOVE YOU! so sad i will never have that winter with you guys but things have a way of working out.
    i am so sorry about your brothers nephew and your friends father,i pray their hearts can heal eventually.
    (i emailed you about san diego, do you know if you are coming?)

  4. This entry is so achingly beautiful, it has left me speechless. I don't know what I would do without you and my other sisters, so far away on the map yet every day so near to my heart. You sisters who helped me scrape together the mortar, me kicking and screaming, to glue that darn plate together. How can I ever repay that? How can words do justice to the gratitude I feel and the bond that we all share? The bitter has been oh so bitter, but you stayed by my side and felt my pain as if it were your own. And the sweet side of that bitterness has been breathtaking as well, again with you feeling my joys as if they were also your own. I miss and love you so much, my sister. That January in the "healing house" will be one of my most treasured memories ever. I would get on a plane for you any time, any reason. Love you.

  5. Thanks for your words--they remind me of so much. So much about your mother. Judy was my dearest friend. We were sisters, we taught each other, loved and laughed and cried and talked--always talked. Never did we run out of things to say and things to share and things to discover. I know how it feels to breath and not get any air, to feel the loss of a best friend and that loss takes away all the air. Becky