Saturday, September 19, 2009

Finding a Place

Thanks for bearing with that cheesy photo of me in the last post. I have to say I am loving my new cut. No blow drying, straighteners, curling irons--not even a comb or brush! Just my trusty hands and a little pomade. Moving on...

When I go to California I always have a place to stay. My friend, Cathy Ravdin, is extremely generous with her beautiful Beverly Hills home, her Porsche Cayenne, her food, and her plush baby products from the baby bedding company she owns. In return, I help cart her 16 yr. old twins (who I nannied when they were 11) to and fro, all over Los Angeles county--Hebrew school, acting lessons, guitar, tutoring; I dabble in homework help, feed the pets, and keep the house tidy. I know my place and am comfortable in our friendship. We help each other out where the other is in need.

Unlike my friendship with the Ravdin family, I can't figure out where grief fits into my life. I have been doing quite well these past few months. Peter has been my ultimate healer, along with running and the slow and steady help of time passage. But everything is still tainted by my enormous and sudden loss. Remember the halted gagging emotions I mentioned recently? It's precisely that: emotionally gagging over and over but nothing ever coming out. I don't know how else to describe it. I know I need a good cry because the pain recycles over and over, yet it doesn't emerge like it used to. So I distract myself with food or books or running or the internet and move on. The intensity of the situation has passed, yet the storm still distinctly lingers. Do I run for cover and hide? Or do I stand bravely outside since the worst has passed and trust my own strength to handle the aftershocks? It is very confusing. I know there is no "right way", but I can't seem to find the way for me. Let it be. Just let it be what it is. Yes, it is true. But I don't know what it is anymore.

I thoroughly enjoy Peter, but all the while there is a siren going off in the back of my head reminding me that his giggles and delights (and mine as well) would be doubled if Lucy were here interacting with him. My emotions are confused and limp.

I made it home last night from a filled and exhausting week. The entire time I was away from home, I had the distinct impression that Lucy was with me. Peter was an absolute trooper and I couldn't have done all that I did if he weren't so extremely patient and easy-going. Lucy was there to guide and protect me through everything.

But where does it fit? How do I miss her and love her and gratefully feel her and accept it as part of my life? I don't know if I'm making sense. It's all so strange. How do I make a place for grief? How do I look at someone's growing child reaching milestones, laughing, growing...or even doing nothing noteworthy at all--just being there, being ALIVE, and not feel jelousy and envy? Separation and hurt? Frustration that I feel the pain and they don't? The grief either consumes me or quietly haunts me. It is not in its proper place yet. It keeps shifting and taking on new forms: bitterness, anger, confusion, sadness.

Just know that all I experience is colored by our loss. There is nothing that doesn't tie into losing her. Nothing. Yes, even in the happiness, the grief is trying to find its place. And last night I couldn't find a place remote enough to hide my sobs.

We got to take a day trip, north, to Santa Maria to see Vic's brother, Paul, and his new baby, Bennett. So precious.

We were lucky enough to tag along with Paul and Kristyn to a local winery for a picnic. A dream come true for me! It was so quaint and beautiful. I was in love.

Cousin Thacker made Peter laugh like a mad man.

I also got to spend a day in Laguna visiting a very long time friend, Julia. We've been friends since 3rd grade. (?) We were attacked by preditory seagulls on the beach. They retaliated by stealing crackers out of Julia's diaper bag. Hilarious and scary.

Vic's last day in Cali we headed to our favorite restaraunt in Venice beach and got to re-live our courting days. It was an absolutely gorgeous day to be at the beach. What I would have given to stay there all afternoon reading and relaxing.

We miss you, Lucy.

On an unrelated note, can't wait to see my friend Whit, on GLEE tonight.


  1. Peter kinda looks like Grant in some of those pictures. Weird huh. Well anyway, it looks like you had a good relaxing time there. I love and miss Lucy too.

  2. I am sure that Lucy tags along...
    every chance she gets.

    She is your very own angel.


  3. Thanks for posting Molly. I was wondering how things were going. Your doing a wonderful job with the burden you have. And you make cute kids. Love Marlene

  4. I thought the same thing about Peter & Grant sharing some darling similarities!

    I love the romantic schmo-schmantic pics at the winery--you two are one hot couple (and I absolutely love your hair!).

    The beach fun looks perfectly sunny & fun, glad you enjoyed your trip!

  5. Praying for you always!

    You look GORGEOUS and that Peter is scrumptious!

    Are you ever going to vacation in AZ???? :)

  6. Molly, that little face of his is completely irresistible! He reminds me of our little Henry at that age. Just soft and round and sweet and terribly kissable. :)

  7. Molly... your hair is fabulous! Peter is getting so big, and looks like Mr. Personality!! You and Vic make for a beautiful couple, you could be in an ad for the winery! I continue to wish you more peace in your sorrow, more joy in your happiness, and more contentment in your quiet moments. Lucy is so loved!

  8. I just love reading your posts... Maybe because I can relate in so many ways and feel the same things. Definitely not to the extent that you do, but that grief do you hide? Do you let it run it's course? It is different everyday and you really always go through different stages it's so hard to keep track! Love you, thinking and always praying for you! Muah! Must say you are quite adorable with your pixie!

  9. Peter is adorable! I love the picture of him on the bed smiling so cute. I think you are doing a wonderful job, learning to adjust to your new circumstances. I read the Hiding Place, and loved a couple of things she said in this book. One was "I know that the experiences of our lives, when we let God use them, become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work He will give us to do." I think one of the things He has given you was to inspire others, which you have done. Another quote from that same book is, "When the time comes that some of us will have to die, you will look ino your heart and find the strength you need-just in time." I think you have found that strength, and are learning to use it for good. You can do hard things, and you are doing them well. I'm glad you had a wonderful trip!

  10. Putting the grief in a place in your life has got to be confusing. I'm thinking time will sort things out somehow. What a kind of crazy transitionary time - and transitions are always hard.

    I'm so glad you guys could come up to see us. It was seriously such a fun little day trip to the winery. I wish we could have talked more though - in person is always better than internet or phone. Love that little Peter of yours and missing Lucy too.

  11. MollFace, You roll with the punches. Or should I say, do the splits with them. And as always, you do it with Grace and Strength and you let us in your heart along the way- we thank you for it, because while you struggle to place grief and joy in your life, we are becoming better people watching you...rolling and/or doing the splits, so to speak. xoxoxo

  12. Molly - our thoughts and prayers are still constantly with you, hoping that while grief will still be a part of your life, love will overcome.
    Love the pictures.
    Peter is adorable.
    The pics w/ you and Vic are definitely frame-worthy.
    Love ya!

  13. First things first- is that pink shirt from DownEast? If it is I have the same on in 5 colors! Not pink, though. It's nice.
    Anyway, I'm so sorry for all that you're going through. Really, I am. Don't feel guilty or like you "should" be at a certain point with regards to grieving. It's very disjointed and lasts in some way your whole life. I'm not trying to sound depressing, I'm trying to tell you that how you feel is how you feel and that is right. And of course everything will always tie into your love for Lucy and that's right, too. I pray for you and I'm sorry.

  14. I haven't experienced what you have but everything you say you feel makes sense to me. I think your grief is perfect for you, and that as you change, it will change. Don't judge yourself or expect anything of yourself... you're perfect!!!

  15. I love the cute pictures. I hope you had a great time in CA. I miss you and that Peter! keep smiling.

  16. You say it all too well. I still love Kaia more, because of your Lucy-every day. I too wish you peace and joy. Isn't it odd, how we feel relief when the sorrow visits us less often, yet we don't want the pain to go away...not all the way. Feels too much like forgetting. But don't worry: there is no forgetting. Not Lucy, not ever. You have grown into such an astounding role model for me personally. Who would have forseen that 15 years ago? :-) I think I speak for many of our old friends...and countless others.

  17. You say it all too well. I still love Kaia more, because of your Lucy-every day. I too wish you peace and joy. Isn't it odd, how we feel relief when the sorrow visits us less often, yet we don't want the pain to go away...not all the way. Feels too much like forgetting. But don't worry: there is no forgetting. Not Lucy, not ever. You have grown into such an astounding role model for me personally. Who would have forseen that 15 years ago? :-) I think I speak for many of our old friends...and countless others.

  18. Oh he's getting so big! I'm glad you had such a great time in California! Your hair is really cute. Miss you guys!

  19. You are a beautiful family. I love your hair.

  20. When I lost Caydin, another mother who had lost her son a few years before shared a thought with me that I think of often. She told me that at first the grief feels like a mountain on your chest; you can't breath. Then, gradually as time passes, the mountain gets chipped away until finally, it is a smooth stone you carry with you always in your pocket. She gave me a polished rock along with her note. It was a perfect analogy for me. Your mountain has shrunk and you have breathing room again, but it's not quite the polished rock yet. It will come, but I think even when it is more of the polished rock, somedays will always just weigh a little heavier. You are amazing! Hang in there! Someday we will get to the end of this race and all will be well!

  21. I was about to comment that every time I look at this post I think that Peter looks like Grant as a baby. I read Peggy's comment so I guess I am not the only one on that. How funny. Not sure what it is but there is something familial in those babies.

  22. Life is not waiting for the storm to pass, it is learning to dance in the rain!

  23. I know you don't know me but I have been reading your blog for a while now. I think you are an amazing woman. I was listening to the radio today and a song by Alan Jackson called "Sissy's Song" came on and I thought about you and what you have been through. If you get the chance to listen to it, it might help you through the day and happy to know she is always with you. Keep being strong.

  24. um.. that top pic of peter... i want to BITE him. i can't take it, tooooo cute.

  25. I forgot to tell you but my friend said she didn't see anything left at the winery after our picnic, including the blue onesie. What bummer, it sure was cute!

    How funny that Joy thinks Peter looks like Grant - seriously, I couldn't agree more.9--9

  26. Just so you know Thacks typed that last bit as I was submitting it. I really do know how to type. :)


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