Exploring the new landscape

I've had a lot on my mind for a long time, but just haven't felt able to put down words. I think it's time to start sifting through the backlog. So I'll start now.

I've been thinking a lot about Renie. She died on December 29th, and that reality continues to unfold for me. When we were in Minneapolis for the memorial service, I remember my dad describing his experience of her long death: how the life force slowly seeped out of her as the disease took more of a hold on her body. Later Jacob and I were talking about this and I got this image of a net spreading out -- of seeds being planted in extending circles... And that when we were tethered to the center of this extending net (when Renie was still alive, and we were watching her fade) all we could see was a bleak shrinking reality, stretched thinner and thinner -- but somehow when she died we were loosed from the tethers too, and were free to see the expanse. Renie, stretching out to the horizon. And as we move through the expansive landscape of her death, those planted seeds will sprout up too: we will come upon memories of her vibrant life, we will see her life and death from new angles...

I don't know. I've never done this before. Imagination and imagery seem to be a good way for me to navigate through these unfamiliar waters.

One of the reasons I had a hard time writing about Renie back in November was because I didn't know what to call her. When it was time to explain to my teachers why I would be missing class, I didn't know what to say. How could I find a title for this person who meant so much to me. I said "my dad's partner," "my stepmother," "a family member," "one of my close friends," "my godmother"-- nothing did her justice. Nothing really described my connection with her, except maybe "godmother," as that's the title she chose for us.

I remember when she asked me if I wanted to be her goddaughter. It was Mother's Day 2008, when we were gathered after the initial diagnosis. There was so much laughter in the air, with so many of my favorite people gathered (remember how all that initial uncertainty made us giddy?). Renie and I were having a sweet moment on her couch together, in the midst of the gathering, and that's when she asked me. It was a quiet little talk and we both agreed. She said, "Yeah. That sounds about right." It reminded me of when Jacob and I decided to get married. There was so much more said with our eyes than aloud; we were agreeing on a title that meant something to us that no one else would ever touch or understand. I guess it's that way with words and anything that means a lot. We toss around words like 'love' in the most mundane situations and they're all we have when it comes time to represent the depths too.

I think I'm going to have a series of these posts. Words. Working through it. Once I get some of this out of my system maybe I'll get back to some pictures and daily life stuff.