Tornadoes
January 23, 2008 at 1:59 Yesterday my 12-year-old son shaved for the first time because some kids at school were teasing him about a few hairs on his chin.
“But I didn’t shave my moustache off, Mama.”
My 10-year-old daughter has been writing to fairies forever. She’d leave the notes in the garden and the fairies would carry them off and leave replies in wee pink envelopes, often with illustrations.
While we were packing up for the movers. she discovered a pile of her notes to the fairies in a small plastic box. “How did they get there?” she asked me.
She is on the verge of losing her first molar. She got her first bra last summer, six months after she came into my bedroom in the middle of the night and told me she was worried she had cancer because both her breasts had quarter-shaped lumps in them. I told her she didn’t have cancer, that those were the beginning of her big girl breasts and the first of many changes on the way for her.
She accepted that information matter of factly and drifted back to sleep. I laid awake for a long time, thinking of my mother, who died of breast cancer, and of the fair-haired baby that I nursed until she was 18 months old, the baby that grew into a girl who still needed me in the night.
A little more than two weeks ago, my period was more than a week late, my breasts full and tender. I told my husband with a wry smile, “Wonder if I’m having your Love Child?” I watched the color drain from his face and noted he made no attempt to cover the terrified expression that followed.
Yesterday, only two weeks after the start of my last period, my period arrived again. I paced the vacant rooms of this house, pausing only to lean my back on the hot radiators and close my eyes against all the emptiness.
Next week, I turn 46. On the same day, I mark the anniversary of my sister’s death. She died when she was 33.
When my eyes slid open this morning and the vestiges of my dreams lingered, I remembered how just before the alarm went off, I was trying to escape a tornado that was bearing down on me. As I squeezed my body into a grassy ditch, I worried that even if the tornado missed me, I might be struck by lightning or crushed by the massive trees growing nearby.
The subconscious is an amazing truth teller.
January 23, 2008
Midlife
Reader Comments (23)
Take care until then.
Let's have a party in the ditch.
Kelby says: I couldn't agree more. I have a LOT of those vivid kind of dreams that in retrospect, appear to reflect that turmoil that smolders inside of me. I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one who introspects, even while sleeping. You MUST be my "sista from another mista", lol, because I "get" you so much that it's scary! :)
For the record, I just turned the big 46 last Friday (Jan.18) and though I certainly don't relish the idea of being one more year closer to 50 (eek!) I can say that this benchmark was slightly less overwhelming than many that came before. Being a cancer survivor, I am, of course, always grateful for each healthy year granted to me and I pray for many, many more to come. Nonetheless, staring at the backside of 40 while still feeling as though I've barely cracked my 20's on the inside is more than a little unnerving to me. I mean, seriously. What. the. freaking. he**?
Here's hoping that your upcoming birthday leaves you feeling younger, happier, healthier, and more hopeful than you've ever felt before. I believe we're both only getting started.
"Here I am, stuck in the middle with you!"
I can't believe we didn't hook up when we were at school. Of course if we had, it might have adversely affected our GPAs. As soon as I get my yearbooks out of storage, I'm scopin you out, Sistah.
Shirley--
I'll bring the chocolate. Di will bring the wine. Who needs plates?
Jodi--
Yeah, it's a sad moment when being face down eatin dirt in a ditch seems preferable than facing the storm that's brewing.Dorothy rode her storm to Oz--maybe we will too...
Don't forget your ruby slippers. ;)
Yes, it is. You are, too.
Ruby slippers ... I just turned on the TV, which happened to be on ABC from husband's morning news viewing ... hence, it turned on to Oprah who is showing the ruby slippers today that she had shipped to the show from the Smithsonian. Wow, they are pretty ... tacky, LOL but cool. OMG, they only fly first class and are under the highest security. I do love all they represent ...
On another note, I could so visualize the scene with E re: the potential love child. I remember going through a similar incident quite some time ago and all the feelings that possibility conjured.
Last, I totally forgot to say happy upcoming birthday, V! I bet your party among your Belgium friends will be one of your very best BD celebrations. My motto is always ignore the number and make the party LAST! I've been known to celebrate my BD for at least a week! Enjoy yours!
Things happen. Life goes on.
I'm so sorry.
Just hang on in there big grrl :)
The radiators on the back sound divine right now too - I have to console myself with these heat patch things that don't really work all that well.
You're a REAL man. :P
My husband is like a Labrador, always full of his energy, wagging his tail, happy to roll in the muck, walk in the rain, run full tilt. He doesn't have an introspective bone in his body. I more than compensate for that!