- The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. -
The photo from today is from my backyard. My wife had a crazy idea that she could build a firepit in two days by herself.
It turned into a two-week project. Every day I would come home and spend about 1-2 hours working in the backyard.
It took some of my weekends away. Katie could barely make eye contact with me for the first two days, knowing how much she had piled onto my plate.
I should’ve been more involved with the planning. She did a great job purchasing the material, performing the layout, and even coordinating it with her work schedule.
She just lacked a little know-how and the muscle to go along with it. A little coordination would’ve helped.
And to be fair, it was her go get it attitude that made it happen. Had I been helping plan, maybe it never would’ve happened.
So yes, we had a few stressful days, but they changed into joy. It was an investment in each other, and after such a hard year, it was nice to have a happy distraction.
It’s starting to get cold, and that means fires. Yesterday, we spent our evening outside making jack-o-lanterns and sitting by the fire.
Soon, we had a blaze going. We would spend an hour just sitting in happy silence, saying a few words here and there, in our happy little oasis.
Before she sat down, I noticed that look in her eyes. The one that said she is thinking about the children we’ve lost, about the next steps in our attempt to get pregnant.
“What?” I already knew, but I knew if there was something she needed to say, I needed to give her the chance to speak.
A short conversation, nothing more than just accounting of what was wrong. I followed it with, “Well, I’m happy I’m here with you.”
“Me too.”
I had a thought by the fire, and later when we were getting into bed, about my eventual death, her death, and my parents dying.
This thinking comes to me involuntarily, and I want to state, despite the negative nature of this talk, I was genuinely happy.
What would I leave behind when I died? What about Katie? Would she leave me? What would life be like without my Mom and Dad?
I realized that I had the answer to those questions, but not explicit answers; I had the answer in the way I know love matters, that words matter.
I felt genuine sorrow. True regret for the fact all of this would end. My little bonfire and thrown away weekends were just a distraction to get me through the waiting.
Vanity yaddie-yaddy-yah wind.
And worse, even in the moment where I could forget that fact most, my wife brought in full clear focus the demise of any future we might have carried out through our children.
If there was a time to drink and forget my future, it was then. Bring on the feasting.
But I didn’t just feel sorrow. I had the answers. I knew that in this mourning was a strange peace, one with caring eyes.
It was worth the sorrow to see. I knew that. I felt my heart, my soul, my lungs, and my mind all center in my chest, at home and satisfied.
I knew Meaning.
Share this post