[post twenty eight] we made it!

Beloveds,

I’m late, I know, for the posting deadline I set myself. This morning, someone said to me, “I can’t believe it’s already March!” I was defensive. I wanted to shout back, “NO! It is still February! There is still one more post on the February blog!” You all gave me such a gift – after a February that was, though not the worst I’ve had, thank goodness, not the best I’ve had, I still didn’t want it to end. Perhaps that’s why I waited until the last possible moment to post. Or perhaps that is because I just got home from a surprise party involving chocolate passion fruit cake and delicious French fries and also the waiter brought me my own personal plate of celery. Who knows. Regardless, here I am.

Here is the plate of celery, and my celery-induced smile (celery is my favorite food):

There are a few things I want to say. The first, and also I am going to say this more times again, is thank you. I sometimes have ideas for things and projects, and I don’t always make them happen, and you all gave me this gift of making an idea real. Beyond that, you breathed life into this idea, and made it SO incredible. I really did have something to look forward to every day this month, and for that I cannot thank you enough.

Next, I want to share a poem about the way that I feel different every day. Depending on the day, I need different things (of course) and another thing for which I am grateful is that now, instead of the repertoire of things I had in my own bag o’ tricks to nourish my soul on those different days, I now also have all the beautiful things you shared.

The poem:

some days i feel small

some days i feel small.

my feet slide around in my boots.

perhaps it is because i am wearing thinner socks, but maybe, while i slept,

my body pulled into itself and became, for today, more small.

the beings that surround me, whether buildings or tall trees,

dwarf me

though yesterday, i considered them my equals.

some days i feel small.

you seem not to notice me.

it could be because you are thinking of other things, but maybe, since the last time we spoke,

you have forgotten all about me, and no longer know that i exist.

this morning, my coat felt too big.

though it protected me from the cold as it always does,

i felt myself swimming inside of it.

there seemed to be space for a second, or even a third, pair of arms

with mine in the sleeves.

it makes me wonder

really wonder

if the others can see the changing of my size.

sometimes i am big, sometimes i am full or tall or cloud-like,

and some days

i feel small.

And also, a couple of things I have loved, when I’ve been in different moments:

This song from a Lysol commercial

This essay by Joan Didion

And this “joke” my mom spontaneously made up about my dual degree program that a classmate and I turned into this weird monkey thing.

Finally (I know, longest post ever, let it GO, ruthie!) I want to tell you that I maybe am a little bit thinking of how to take as much of what I can from this blog and make it into a book through snapfish or one of those things or whatever. More on that if it happens to be one of the ideas I make real, instead of one of the ones I don’t.

And finally finally, thank you, thank you, thank you. Again and again. Same time next year?

Love,

Ruthie