Gratitude for Cold Tangerines

I'm listening to the song called "You're Here" by Francesca Battistelli right now, even though it's a song about Christmas.  The whole Emmanual, God with us promise is appreciated and necessary to think about again tonight too. 


One of the best books I've ever read is called Cold Tangerines.  It's on my mind tonight because the things she says in the book are ricocheting all over inside of me.  I am feeling the truth in the stories. 



This book was written by a woman who strikes a very classy balance between telling stories in an honest way and leaving lots of room for thought.  Her name is Shauna Niequist and I like her style.  I'm reading through this a second? third? fourth? time because I need some hope again.  This book slows me down, and I'm grateful that it feels wise and that it always feels timely.  The subtitle underneath Cold Tangerines says....


Celebrating the extraordinary nature of every day life


...and I have decided that this is a spring motto.  I'm rusty and out of practice with this, and it almost scares me to think about how far away I've gotten from those secret small things in the day that really can be celebrated.  I'm talking about the distance from where 'the mere sense of living is joy enough'.  Emily Dickinson knew her stuff too...is she a kindred spirit?  Maybe.  Except I'm much more a fan of being out in the world with people instead of writing poetry in my room and hiding it in drawers.  


There is a chapter in Cold Tangerines that made my heart skip a beat when I was reading it tonight.  It's because in the past year I have lived it too.  And I'm still reeling from the things that she wrote about.  So it was a glimpse of the things I am always trying to say.  The chapter is called "A Funeral and a Wedding" and the author lived these things, back to back.  And last year I did too.  


My friends did this right alongside me.  This was the vast relief of 2010.  Mutual celebrations and mutual grief.  I've discovered a little troupe of people to call my own in the past two years.  In addition to the kindred spirits from high school and college, I have found this Bible study in my 20s.  Our friend Kari belonged not only to my experiences in college...she was in this group.  And last year when she died, life became hazy and foggy and all at once too very harsh and real.  We've been different ever since.


In Cold Tangerines, the author's friend dies, and it sounded like he was one of the best ones, just like Kari was.  Kari loved Cold Tangerines too!  I miss her.  All of my friends do, and the grief has surprised us this year in its intensity and in the way it washes over us at different times in the day.  I wish she could still show up for Bible study.    I wish that I could know her baby instead of having to wait for Heaven for the privilege.  I wish John and Kari could still show up to parties already laughing about something together when we opened the door. 


We've been marking the secret anniversaries of the heart throughout this year....her birthday, their anniversary, the supposed due date of the little baby, holidays, etc.  Life is so much more than these things, but these specific dates on the calendar have served as stepping stones for the thing I sometimes want to avoid and deny.  They're big hurdles that mark something I still can't figure out.  In the end, though, it's the extraordinary in the ordinary that makes me miss her most of all. 


In Cold Tangerines, Shauna Niequist writes about the searing pain of missing someone and how things in life blend to make things bittersweet.  She officiated a wedding the day of the funeral and wrote about feeling hollow and spent even while she was celebrating a beautiful new thing.  I didn't think life was like that, but it is and I feel that I know what it means. 


Last June, a few weeks after Kari's funeral, Jamie and Tyler got married.  Their wedding was a very Jamie and Tyler kind of thing, and it was wonderful.  I sat there thinking, "Absorb this, absorb this, Jamie is getting married to Tyler".   I took the pictures I wanted to take, and watched good things happen in front of me, just like Shauna described.  And yet, I battled the hollow.  And I HATED that I was battling the hollow feeling, but it was the inevitable truth. 


John asked me to drive with him to this wedding, just to navigate crowds together (and let's face it, he helped me with the directions - for once in my life I drove through the city AND was on time for something) and I accepted this suggestion in a heartbeat, but I have never in the entire year of missing her, wished for her presence more than on that day.  At least for the big things.


Do I want Kari here every day?  Of course - I want my ordinary, as is, open hearted friendship with her.  As far as big days go in the course of this year though - June 26 was the toughest for me.  I desperately wished that she was there.  This day, such a good one for a thousand reasons, also felt raw to the core.  I cried about this for hours the week before the wedding.  And it took me a long time to realize that it was bothering me so much because time had swept us away from May 24, and the shock of her funeral, and we HAD to keep living without her.  The fog lifted for a little while.


As mentioned in Cold Tangerines, the sorrow mingled with the good things at that wedding.  The wedding for Jamie and Tyler is incredibly memorable for me.  I DID absorb the things I was trying to appreciate and see in the day we were all living.  It was very very real to me...nothing fog like there.  And I did celebrate.  But unlike other weddings before this, I didn't know that sorrow could live so close at the same time. 


We've all been navigating this together this year. 


There is much more to say about Kari.  I've barely touched the surface with my thoughts of her, and my love for her.  But tonight I'll just say I miss her, and I'm glad Cold Tangerines reminded me of things uniquely Kari that make it heartwrenching now that we miss this in the every day ordinary.