I have always had a stuffed-front frige, since I struck out on my own, single mom with son in tow, desiring to remind myself of what it was all for: I might be cooking an egg (scrambled, with green onion) and look up, spatula in hand, overcome by despair. ( I am the kind of person that this regularly happens to.) ' What IS it all for? ' I'd think. And there, right in front of me, were the many answers.It's for my grandparents Elizabeth and MD Gardner, both dead now (Writing those words is surreal- it can't be, can it? It doesn't feel possible. Why is it reality feels impossible while daydreams appear completely realistic? ) and sitting in their picture at Dakota's preschool graducation, his floppy blue hat on head, my Grandma's wrinkled and blue veined hand clenched in his, Grandpa MD standing proudly, finally happy, after a lifetime of severe mental illness and the long ago death of their beloved son David; David died the same age my Dakota is now, at 14, and this reality is again, impossible for me. I have many times imagined the policemen coming to knock in the sweltering Mississippi heat at my Grandma's door, her answering, apron on, hair beautifully brushed and lipstick in place, for them to tell her that David had fallen out of the forbidden abandoned rowboat in the lake, messing round with his buddies, hit his head and drowned. His friends tried to save him. Grandma took to her bed for weeks, until the family doctor came and gave her B shots. After that she was able to care for her six other children and mentally ill husband while working full time as a schoolteacher.
It's for my husband: my best friend since I was 19 years old who was so immediately in love with me the first time we met he literally did not talk for three straight hours.
It's for my children, Ian Oliver of the incredibly round and adorable baby head, Dakota Wolf my nurtsie boy, and Lola Moon, my closest companion.
It's for my mother, Mary, and her great love for her grandchildren.
It's for my cousins Simon and David, and all they are to me that they do not know.
It's for my cousin Amalia, like a sister to me, her new son Elton and his big Gardner eyes.
It's for the great and amazing possibility of change that Barack Obama brings, for the joy he brings.
It's for poetry, and dance, and music, and laughter, and long walks in cool evenings, and all creatures great and small, as Herroit says,
this wonderful world! remind me, remind me of why we do what we do.
I once lived in an apartment whose fridge was not magnetized. That's right, I could but NOTHING on there. I think it's the main reason I hated the place.
that is FREAKy! i've never heard of that. it must have been a Poltergiested frige. good thing you moved.
The instant I saw my husband I thought "oh no, I'm in trouble." It's been a mostly good kind of trouble :)
It's for him and our two gorgeous kids, Maya and Austin, who have taught me so much about who I am and who I want to be.
It's for my mother who is my greatest role model.
It's for my grandparents who are like my parents 2.0 and are there for me always.
I love busy fridge fronts! Mine is covered with magnets, postcards, etc. Anyone who doesn't have magnets on their fridge are circumspect in my book.
my fridge is my constantly changing board
You point the emotional compass into the true heart of existence: family, love and devotion.
Thank you.
I am a fellow fridge artist. Nothing says sad like a naked fridge, just like nothing says full heart like a fridge crammed with photos and cards, quotes, stuff.
Great post! Our fridge is the same - a collage of lives. It's great.
That's lovely. What a way to keep the spirits up.
Anon you are very sweet.
I love a full fridge front. I have always filed mine with photos, but never thought about adding quotes or words like I see on yours. What a wonderful idea! :)
Your blog is wonderful. Love this post. Inspiration is great in a visible space like our fridges! Thanks for visiting my blog!
I wish I had a bigger fridge so I could stick more stuff on it.
It's so funny about the fridge. Ours is covered too...
I love it. I especially like that you point at that you have had a fridge like this since you moved out on your own. My fiance and I just moved out and I NEVER in my life had a magnetic fridge. Now I do and I LOVE IT. It's like a cork board without the annoying cork and it's a great place to store those parts of your heart that don't always fit into a category.
Oh my! I love this post. I've always agonized over my fridge front... so full of this and that. I always thought it looked so messy. But what you have written reminds me of what it's all about... and how sweet and precious all of the chaos really is. What if I didn't have my three boys to chase after, trying to keep the schedules straight, snapshots and whatnot. I have a new appreciation for the loaded front door of my fridge. Thank you!! :)
"why we do what we do"
"those parts of your heart that don't always fit into a category"
I love these quotes from both of you. My fridge has magnets from many of our vacation trips, school pictures in tiny frames of my son from kindergarten through grade school, a picture framed in popsicle sticks that my son drew of us when he was five, his preschool handprint on a pot holder... so many reminders of what matters.
And the millions of annoying reminder notes and phone numbers.
Not only is my fridge loaded up just like that with all things worthwhile, but you and I have the exact same fridge! CRAZY!
Love the refrigerator photo!
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