Mesmerizing Water

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As time has passed since Halia's stillbirth, I find that in moments of grief, my mind often returns to the Pacific Ocean, to the peace I felt during our vacation in California in April 2010. I had plenty of time that week to sit quietly and allow myself to be mesmerized by the waves, by the endless movement of the water, by the colors and the patterns. It is a great comfort to me that Halia and I shared that time.

When I went looking for photos from our trip in preparation for writing these blog posts, I was surprised to see so much action in the water. My memories are of such a peaceful, restful, and spacious time, and I somehow expected more tranquil photographs. Nevertheless, these photos do manage to depict a little of what captured my attention and allowed me to relax into the beauty and vastness of the ocean.

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Day 6 of 31 ~ 2 Cheshvan 5774 

Five Generations

View from Point Lobos, Carmel, California. April 2010.

View from Point Lobos, Carmel, California. April 2010.

In April 2010, as I made the turn from first to second trimester, our family took a trip across the country to Carmel, California to memorialize my grandmother, who had died six months earlier. She grew up in Los Angeles, and her mother (Bama Stimson) built a small cottage in Carmel in the 1950s.  Even though Grandmother lived most of her adult life in Madison, Wisconsin, almost all her family is in California, and we were able to get together with many of her nieces and nephews and their families to remember her.

My parents, husband, son, and I all stayed in the cottage, which we call Blue Door, for a lovely week. We walked down to the beach every day, and soaked in the beauty of the California coast. As it turned out, it was our only quiet time with Halia, a time when I could rest and enjoy, free of the daily responsibilities of work, school, etc. 

Some of Grandmother's nieces and nephews would jokingly call Blue Door "the museum" because Grandmother and her sister Mary wanted to keep things just the way their mother had arranged them. When I first started visiting Blue Door, it still had appliances from the 1950s and did feel a little like a time machine. Since then, inevitably, the fridge had to be replaced, and the living room and bedroom were tastefully redecorated. Nevertheless, the cottage still holds Bama Stimson's distinctive mark.  

I was so aware of the mother-daughter relationship between Grandmother and Bama Stimson the whole time were were there, and also my connection to them and their connection to the baby growing within me. I was also so delighted to introduce Carmel to my older son, G. He knew Grandmother well, and was eager to soak in everything about her history and about this place she held dear. Being there by the Pacific Ocean felt timeless, without normal boundaries.  It was a precious and poignant time.

 

Posing with my husband James and with my son in front of "Blue Door," Carmel, California. April 2010. 

 

Day 5 of 31 ~ 1 Cheshvan 5774 

 

Today

I am so grateful for the chance to devote time to Halia this month and to curate my "Halia collection." I know it's only Day 4 today, but already I am realizing two things: 

1. I miss blogging about my day-to-day life, the here and now.

2.  In my intro post, I defined the Halia collection as works from 2010-11, and in doing so I unwittingly made this project about looking back, about past perceptions.  However, the very act of writing this blog has changed those perceptions, has brought my memories and experiences into the present, and has made me long to create anew. In fact, the blog itself is an addition to the collection.

In other words, this Halia collection is not static. It will continue to grow, and it need not be separate from my day-to-day life. I still plan on using the collection from 2010-11 as the major springboard for my posts, but I will sprinkle in some new stuff as well. 

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My toddler and I were out at the park this morning, and I made a spontaneous little tribute to Halia. This morning happened to be a quiet morning at our neighborhood playground -- for most of the time we were the only ones there -- but usually going to the park means leaving myself open to the possibility of encountering an almost 3 year old girl. Sometimes I am eager to know what they are like, to let myself imagine Halia, and other times it just hurts too much. Whatever the circumstances, I think of her often but only rarely give voice to those thoughts. What a welcome release today to go ahead and spell her name in the sand, to have fun handling all the little sticks and stones and bits of acorns, and to find a beautiful red leaf to be the punctuation mark.

 

 Day 4 of 31 ~ 30 Tishrei 5774

Holding

Collage, Early Spring 2010

Collage, Early Spring 2010

I made this collage around the end of the first trimester, when I still thought the pregnancy was proceeding normally. I finished it and set it on my piano, where I would look at it frequently. I liked having this collage around, and I took in its every detail especially as I played the piano. This collage accompanied me through the remaining weeks of the pregnancy, and always seemed to reflect my experience, even as everything changed and became more and more difficult. It soothed me, as it helped to hold what was going on within me: my fatigue and growth, my fears and hopes. It always seemed to tell my story:

I am tired and need rest. 

I am swathed in a flowing blanket, placed exactly where it is needed.

I have a growing, rounded belly. 

My baby and I are surrounded by love.

Much is going on inside me: the waves of the ocean, a perfectly formed baby, and who knows what else! 

I am here with it all. 

 

 

Day 3 of 31 ~ 30 Tishrei 5774 

Two Watercolors

Halia-inspired watercolors, April 2011

Halia-inspired watercolors, April 2011

I painted these two small watercolors as part of a short series. I was in the middle of a different project at the time, very much inspired by the new life growing within me, Halia's brother (A., now 2 years old). The differences between Halia and A. were so evident to me then, even before I could feel him kicking or learned his gender. To me, he was red, ruby red, and I was awash in deep red paper in his honor. Suddenly, I needed to spend time with my memories of Halia. It took a little while for me to settle in to remembering, and as I did, a peacefulness came over me. 

That same feeling returned yesterday as I wrote the post about the Blue Portrait. Throughout the day today, that feeling has continued to washed over me -- a real sense of comfort and joy in being able to remember her and to connect again to my sense of who she was/is.  Then, too, come the waves of sadness, of disbelief, of regret.

And, as both kinds of waves recede, I am left with gratitude: thankful for the courage that spurred me to move past my fear and be willing to be here with my memories and my grief, thankful for those of you acting as my witnesses by reading and encouraging me, and most of all, thankful for love that knows no boundaries.

 

Day 2 of 31 ~ 28 Tishrei 5774