You give & take away
When Lillian and I experience minor inconveniences in life, we’ll often sing the 2000’s praise lyrics: “You give and take away, you give and take away. My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be your name.” The more vibrato the better. It’s especially funny to sing over petty stuff like dropping your little treat or breaking a mug. But I imagine it wasn’t written for comedic relief amidst moments of domestic stress. It was probably written about really going through it.
Two weeks ago we learned that we miscarried the baby we were expecting to know for the rest of our lives, Basil’s little sister named Marigold. Lots of tears, lots of spontaneous regulating hugs, lots of future plans being rearranged in her absence. We never imagined not having her.
Those words, you give and take away, have been rattling around in my head since I heard. No longer funny or sad, just a truth to reflect on and know. I don’t feel angry because I know we aren’t the first to experience this kind of human suffering. All that I’ve been given has been illuminated—the squishy bean that is Basil, my best friend Lillian, this space to grieve, the art I get to make, and our winding adventurous story.
And then amidst all that sadness, Lillian got a Zillow notification that our old Nashville apartment was on the market again. We were originally planning to move to Cincinnati, but got homesick and started planning towards Nashville instead. I texted my old landlord and three days later we had our Nashville move in date – October 9. So here I am, sitting and writing this from our living room on Archer Street, watching Basil bike around the same house that Basil the cat lived in. The same place that my friends and I got to know and love Nashville in. The same place where Lillian and I fell in love.
This feels like grace. Even though the pain of losing Marigold is great, it’s so cool that we’ve been given this home in Tennessee that holds our lore. I’ve often wondered if in doing so much travelling and moving we forfeited some kind of important continuity. But now it’s all coming together. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
