seasons of love

525,6000 minutes.

one year.

one year without mom.

525,600 minutes

525,000 moments so dear.

525,600 minutes

how do you measure

measure a year.

in daylight

in sunsets

in midnights

in cups of coffee

in inches

in miles

in laughter

in strife

in 525,600 minutes

how do you measure a year in the life?

how about love?

ok. i hope you were singing along to the 'rent' soundtrack when you read that.

that song has been on stereo in my brain for several days now. i had all these brilliant blog post sentences and turns of phrase starting to take shape, but i couldn't quite hang on to any of them. i've been thinking about what i would write on this day for a very long time now. and so far, all i have come up with is a section of 'seasons of love'.

when Yale and i pulled in to the cemetery parking area today, all i could think was "it's so beautiful" and "i don't remember where the grave is". i walked around in squinty-eyed confusion with a vague recollection that it was near a tree on the side near the road.

mom is buried next to dad in a small country cemetery next to the church. there are trees and birds and fields all around. it smells like cut grass and cows. red winged black birds chirp from the branches of narrow cedar trees. my parents' stone has a forest sunset scene etched onto it with an eagle flying over the trees. i found it after a few moments of hunting and immediately plopped down in the soft grass and wondered what to do next.

i had a short jam jar full of lily of the valley and one yellow iris bud to put at the stone. i thought maybe i would put it down, show Yale the stone, and then get back in the car and remember that they are not there. they are not there. it is just a stone.

but that is not what i did. i pretty much fell into a lump with my knees almost touching the smooth cold marble. and just started rambling like an idiot, and crying, and snotting all over myself. the first thing i noticed is that others must have been at the grave today before me. there were other brand newly cut garden flowers at the stone. phlox and a rose and a little cross ornament that said "you are loved". i'm not sure how long that has been there. i haven't been to the cemetery since the day we buried a canister of her ashes and a big bunch of lily of the valley last year. but i know the flowers were fresh. there was also a small tin can with a purple ribbon around it with some now-dried flowers in it that was almost certainly my sister's handiwork. mother's day, i bet.

i sat in the grass and touched the flowers and marveled at the brilliantly warm sun. it was a beautiful day not to be at work. it was a beautiful day to sit in a cemetery and not know what to do with myself. i looked around at the other graves and the little artifacts of love and grief that sat on them. little ceramic owls. plastic flowers. baskets. tiny gargoyle figurines. plastic toy dogs. wreaths. little american flags.

i stood up and wandered around to look at other stones. yale was nearby, but didn't get too close until i just stopped walking and started crying.

"one year. i didn't even know you a year ago. she's going to miss everything. she's going to miss the wedding. i cannot believe my mother will not be at my wedding. she will never meet you. it is not fair. NOT. FAIR."

"i know."

there was nothing more to do or say, so we got back in the car and continued with our to-do list. we had a lot to do today. we accomplished about half of it. but we did get the marriage license. i liked that we had to give an oath to the deputy of the county clerk. we had to hold up our right hands and swear that we had told the truth, that we were not related, and we were not married to anyone else. i'm glad we did that today.

and 11 days from now, when we get married at the house that my parents dreamed up and built together and lived in happily together for 30 years, it will be may 30. the day of mom's memorial last year. i'm all about redeeming grief. we will say our vows in the back field where we sprinkled mom and dad's ashes. they will be there. all over the place.

one year ago today my mom breathed her last pain-filled breath and went Home to the God of all Joy. since that day, i met Yale. i fell in love. i got engaged. i ran a marathon. i loved, then hated, then liked, and may be starting to love my job again. i let go. i started to become a real optimist. i saw a baby BE BORN. i started to trust that my friends and my family are all actually both. i latched on to my brilliant God-send of a Roommate and dug deep into life with my other dear ones. learned with a swift SMACK that the Lord sends us exactly who and what we need in every season of our life.

how do you measure a year in the life?

measure in love. big heaping cups full.