Friday, June 3, 2011

queen for a day

I won't lie, I'm all over the place emotionally these days. And it's hard not to succumb to the "Oh, I'll write about it on the blog," because then this happy (hopefully funny) place becomes a vale of tears where I only write about the painful stuff and garner lots of sympathy and maybe even attention. I love attention. Too much, probably.

Nutshell: in finally applying for little Blake's Canadian citizenship by virtue of his dual-citizen father, I'm having to round up paperwork and lots of it. Some of it is easy to find; I'm almost numb to the sight of it (big Blake's death certificate - I can simply see what it is without reading it and hurting). Some of it is very hard to find (I have a lot of stuff in the garage, and some legal papers are apparently buried deeply), and it requires looking through many things that bring memories flooding to mind.

For the life of me, I cannot scrounge up big Blake's most recent driver's license. I am fairly confident it's in a beautiful eelskin wallet that was a gift from his mother. I have found his Social Security card (that he kept with a small photo of his mother, which is deeply endearing to me), I have found notebooks full of his handwriting, I have found his stack of old ski passes (adorably, Rob has also kept most of his passes, and the two stacks are in the same drawer, mingling minimally but in my mind), I have found our diplomas and many photos, and no driver's license or wallet. They are probably in his shaving kit, which I have never been able to do anything more than look at and cry over, then zip up and put back intact. And now I can't find it, but all the other things are sweet and bitter and then I cry.

Being pregnant is so magical. I'm perfectly fine today, in fact in a better mood than usual, feeling a little sassy and sparky and like singing along loudly to my favorite songs. It might have something to do with a note I got, in reply to a note of apology I sent to a former employer. God is recovering a relationship that I tossed in the garbage nearly seven years ago, and He is doing so with a very gentle and very gracious conviction of my own sin, finally turning my eyes from how I'd been wronged to how I had wronged. She wants to have coffee. So do I. We'll probably hug, and I'll probably CRY LIKE A BABY, but that's okay...

... because today, there were three western tanagers on my bird feeder, and I'm singing along to my anthem.


Noel said...

Have I told you that I think of you every time I hear this song? Luckily, I get to hear it often as the only xm station we can seem to agree on at work is classic rock.

Sorry that you have to do that. I hate death certificate days. I need to get all of that stuff organized and in the same file so that it's easy for me to find, but haven't yet. Love you today.

lanerdoo said...

Oi! Non of that sounds fun, except for maybe singing loud to music. I am happy that you have fond memories to cry over instead of bitterness and regret.

You are an oak. Love you always.

lanerdoo said...

none :)

Reese said...

I was so pleased to hear that happy spark in your voice when you called me for your coffee order on garage sale day! I was also pleased to hear that you can stomach, I mean enjoy, coffee at this stage of your pregnancy. Lucky beeyatch. :)

Lindsey K said...

Another card you might like to re-use:
(Front) Alcohol
(inside) Nature's preservative