20 Comments
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M. A. Miller's avatar

The kitchen becoming a kind of anchor, even a quiet lifeline, comes through clearly, especially tied to that “do the next thing” idea. It doesn’t try to resolve grief—it just shows how someone moves through it one small act at a time, and that makes it feel real. That line about being capable of muffins says a lot without trying to say everything. It connects with something I’ve been thinking about too—how in the middle of chaos, we’re often only given the next step, not the whole path. I wrote a short piece around that here: https://theeternalnowmm.substack.com/p/the-man-who-tried-to-surprise-god?r=71z4jh

Kara's avatar

What a beautiful meditation on the givenness of life. Of love. Of time. Thank you so much for sharing this with me! And your super thoughtful read of my do-the-next-thing year. ❤️❤️🙏

Jill Thompson's avatar

Thank you so much for sharing this! I have often find myself utilizing the advice of Elisabeth Elliot when navigating my own grief or walking alongside others in grief..."do the next thing" is sometimes as simple as a good deep breath. It's remarkable how sometimes the heavy weight of grief makes even that smallest act an intentional decision.

Kara's avatar

Yes! I remember in grief group they gave us a list of activities that might help and man, they were small and simple. Like one was - make yourself a cup of tea. And then the next one was: switch chairs. 😂. And that’s it, isn’t it. We have to be So patient and let ourselves heal and feel again. 💕❤️🙏 thank you so much for this thoughtful read!

Jennifer McMahon's avatar

Paper-thin hours describes perfectly what those hours felt like. It is a solace to have that time captured so perfectly. It brought me right back to sitting by Lissy's bed and watching her sleep ~ knowing she was right there but about to be out of our reach.

Kara's avatar

So sweet to see your thoughts.

Yes. That was exactly it:

Right there. But about to be out of reach.

Sigh. Still so hard.

When I feel the feels.

Love you. ❤️❤️🙏

Ed Fitzgerald's avatar

Kara,

What a beautiful piece. As I deal with life now, your words bring me comfort . Thank you .

Kara's avatar

Oh Ed! Thank you for this! I miss you both. I'll be in and out of the city and would love to swing by. I'm sending oceans of love.

Kelli's avatar

Kara! i'm in awe of you. Just wow- every time I read one of your pieces! But the best thing is, you're one of my best friends in the world, and so I know you are the real deal, 100% authentic. This is you. And i love you ! (And i miss Lissy! 🤍) love you, brilliant sista xo

Kara's avatar

Oh my goodness!! Did this make my day!?!?! Yeah. Pretty much. Thank you so,so much, sista. I'm forever grateful for you (and our sisterhood) 'cause you guys are my horizon line!! For real. I'm so glad you liked it. XOXOX

Sara's avatar

Sewing. I couldn’t read, I only cooked what was necessary for basic nourishment for my family, but I could sew - by hand - and let my mind wander wherever it wanted. Therapy came later for me - a gulf in the road that I couldn’t jump - and I sewed through that too.

Kara's avatar

Yes! I remember how you shared a sewing project with Sven when she was sick. She was so so appreciative! Oh, thanks for sharing that! And reminding me of the power of it. 💕❤️

Sara's avatar

I was so glad she was interested - although I fear not much was made 💔

Kara's avatar

She spoke of that visit from you and that project many times and was so grateful! For both. It truly was a beautiful do-the-the-next-thing project, given in love.

Haley Recer's avatar

Kara, I loved this beautifully written piece. It is SO in line with my own experience. After my sister passed, changing my children's diapers and plating cheddar bunnies and chicken nuggets were my solace. Thank you for sharing. Hugs.

Kara's avatar

Oh, Haley. I can totally picture that. ❤️🙏 thank you so much for sharing.

My Still Life Memories's avatar

The image of hoping the aromas would rise up and reach your sister is the most honest thing I have read about grief in a long time. Cooking as a kind of séance, making things to try to summon someone back, is a thought most people have, and almost no one says out loud. Your description of the kitchen as a safehouse, the place where even a shattered mind could find the next small, sequential task, explains why people instinctively head there when everything else becomes too large to hold.

Kara's avatar

What a lovely response! Thank you so much for such a thoughtful read. ❤️🙏 so grateful for this heartfelt comment.

Will Parker Anderson's avatar

Kara, this is a beautiful post. Thank you for sharing.

Kara's avatar

Thank you so much, Will. Means a whole lot coming from you!