From the Kitchen of Theresa’s Heart
1 heaping cup disbelief
1 tablespoon reluctance to say goodbye
16 ounces excruciating pain
3 cups brutal sadness
2 tablespoons confusion (substitute questioning)
1/2 cup constant obsessing
8 ounces anger (substitute feeling misunderstood)
2 teaspoons agonizing guilt
3/4 cup embarassment
1 quart lonliness
Dash of untimely and needless
Directions: Preheat oven to 1123 degrees. In a small bowl, mix disbelief with reluctance to say goodbye. Next, trim platitudes from excruciating pain and discard. use mixture to coat pain. cook in scalding cast-iron skillet until blackened. set aside. fill large pot with tears and bring to boil. Lower heat; pour brutal sadness into a pot and cover. Allow to simmer for weeks. When sadness is numb, remove from heat and drain tears from pot. stir confusion and constant obsessing into sadness and set aside. Use mallet to pound anger until tender. Cut into bit sized pieces. fry in pan over high heat with agonizing guilt and embarrassment. When anger turns red, remove pan from heat. Layer on the sadness mixture, then cover with anger, guilt, and shame. Top with loneliness. Season with untimely and needless. Place in oven and bake until loneliness turns into intense longing. Let sit for a lifetime.
Notes: Pairs well with absolute fear. Best served smothered in love and compassion (may need assistance). Garnish with a sense of peace.
– Excerpt from “Bearing the Unbearable; Love, loss and the Heartbreaking Path of Grief” by Joanne Cacciatore.
I’m sharing these words because if you’ve never experienced loss then these words might scratch the surface of what it’s like. And if you have? Doesn’t it feel like she took the thoughts right out of your soul?
People say that I will change
As if the world can harden me
They have looked at me with the same knowing in their eyes,
since I was 15 years old
As if they can predict that one day my kindness will be all used up
it has been eight years since I first noticed it
the only difference between now and then
is that I cannot be used, stepped on or pushed aside
My kindness is as raw as ever.
Much of the writing I find myself recording in the little books I carry around with me is observation. Throughout my time in Europe I did my best to see people, to listen to the things that were occurring around me. One day, while my family spent some time on the lake in Austria, a particular family caught my attention and this is what I wrote once I swam back to shore:
“I am sitting on a dock in the middle of a lake; it is crystal clear, surrounded by mountains.
The water is cold.
The cold kind of fresh that makes you feel clean when you jump in
A family of four swims up to the dock
There is a dad, a mom, a daughter and a son.
The kids are young.
The boy yells “komm papa komm! Los geht’s!”
They are giggling and all smiles. I watch them for a while wrestling and throwing each other into the water.
Normally these things make me miss my dad- and while this reminded me of the times we used to have together- it made me miss the idea of family as a whole.
For so long I have wrested with the idea that having children is selfish.
That time and resources should be invested elsewhere.
Lying here, mesmerized by this happy little family I feel like I can’t tell myself this anymore.
Someday in the far future I am going to have a family.
I am going to have kids and adopt kids.
From a very young age I am going to look into their shining eyes full of potential and teach them how to take on life and appreciate it with every inch. of. their. souls. “