Babies Grow Up

 

 All around the house, scatter pieces of your dream come true. Photos clipped carefully from magazines of hairstyles and shoes and flowers. I see now how this dream sustained you these past two years, while you endured it here, in this temporary place with your mommy, this place that you had long outgrown. But you endured lovingly, so gracefully - bringing home tea and Diet Pepsi and butterfly mugs to make the sipping special.  I'm drinking my morning coffee out of the blue one; I always tried to give you the pink one when I poured yours, did you know that? Still giving you the pink cup, 25 years nonstop. How I love you, my little girl, all grown up. It is your time, Bird, finally, your turn. I look at all the spaces where your things are propped up waiting for you to take them. You deserve your own space. Your own alters. 

  The day after your wedding, I felt so tender, sore all around my heart that at the same time leaped with joy for the two of you. I have a friend who cannot understand, how I could feel anything but pure happiness, but it's ok, I know I am allowed to feel a little sad. We humans are complex creatures and life is rarely all or nothing. I will miss you so much, but oh how much light you and your big, loving, laughing man give off. How you belong together.  

It's a familiar feeling I have right now. Much like those early days after I gave birth to you. Feeling so very feminine, with a tender, secret ache.  Bliss was tempered with the ending of having you all to myself - knowing that I had to share you with the rest of the world, and knowing that the rest of the world didn't, couldn't ever love you as much as I do.  But guess what, Bird?  I think your laughing man might, I think he just might, and there is immeasurable relief in that.  I gave you away when you said, " I do" on a perfect day at water's edge. But your happiness, your happiness was worth it.

I am thinking now of all the times you helped me when I was too tired to stand. All the times you came through the door at the end of a long day, happy for the meals I made, and smiling, just about always smiling. And each time I knew, I always knew, I wouldn't have that forever. Today, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles,  I know that I am able to open my heart and let you go. Really truly, gladly, let you go. Because, sparkly one- in -the -middle, that's how much I love you.

On the Bright Side

 

I have been a slip of an oldie, a ghost of me, wondering around looking for myself. Frantic almost, like looking for lost car keys and running late. Now where did I last see me? Under the rubble on the old chest, under the couch next to the stray flip-flop? It is a strange feeling to misplace yourself, but that is kind of what has been happening. I knew of course it was from being too busy. I am not the sort of person that can go for long stretches attending to this and that without time to sit and ponder it all. I get lonely, oh so lonely, for the company of my own contemplation.

So the other night, I bundled up in my daddy's old sweatshirt, and dragged my old self out to the balcony. I wrapped up in a soft, shaggy pinkish red blanket, pulled up my hood (April evenings are still pretty chilly in Jersey) lit a lemon candle and sat still...

I swear I felt a subtle thump as my soul settled back into its rightful spot. I have no delusions about who I am. But I still wanted me back. So what that I am and may always be in an arrested state of development? So - I am immature for my age and under-accomplished; whatever. I know for sure that my grandest gift has been my ability to love and I do that fiercely, finely, most commendably. If I die tomorrow I will know at least that I was able to do that.

Having my soul back in alignment helps me view all of humanity more tenderly.  When a certain someone is being greedy, I am able to see his selfishness as fear.  When someone is loud and obnoxious, I am able to see it as a cry for attention, a plea to be appreciated. I love this fleeting state.  If it were permanent, I would be a saint. But I know all too well that it will fade and soon I will once again be cursing the certain someone, and rolling my eyes at the loudmouth on the train. But today, just for now - I  get  it.  It is a great state to be in.

And it colors everything. The trees are so green, it is startling. The laundry is a rainbow of thongs and socks. Yesterday, I went grocery shopping and instead of grumbling at prices or the thought of dragging all the heavy bags across the courtyard and up the full flight of stairs, I was happy to be bringing home cute little grapes and coffee creamer to my family. 

As I was driving home from the store parking lot, my car and I waited obediently for a woman,  who looked about my age, to cross at the walkway. She didn't look up and thank me for sitting patiently for her to waddle on.  On another day I would have been annoyed that she didn't smile or nod or at least lift her grocery bag in acknowledgement. But today, I just watched her cross in her too- tight, stretch pants that might have been better reserved for the privacy of her home.  Her cheeks jiggled independently as she flip-flopped on by.   " Awww, her butt..." I felt, rather than thought, in much the same way someone would feel about a baby duck toddling by.   Her rear was so apparent, not hidden away but right there - so...so... human? A butt, different, but still basically the same as mine, two cheeks, wiggle-wiggle, the same as each and every other human being's.

 I drove home enlightened, in love with humanity and all of it's failings, frailty and splendor. And to think that all it took was a glimpse at another fifty- year- old tush in motion. It is great to be "home" again.