Grumpy

 I’m grumpy but I don’t really have a reason. I’m tired. Vacation is over. Rob had to drive us back home in pouring rain. We went from a cool fresh 60 degrees to a muggy stagnant 87. Ok, maybe I do have reason to be grumpy. 

On the up side, the kids helped clean out the car. Weldon was happy to be reunited with her little plastic baby friend. Charlie couldn’t watch TV so busied herself sewing a summer collection for her Barbie. Honestly, the dresses are really cute. Sassy but simple. Very “Charlie” but surprisingly sophisticated for an eleven year old. I came into her little sewing room to find her bent over the tiny frock, brow furrowed and fingers nimbly tightening stitches. 


Ziggy’s cloud is lifting. That heavy dark cloud that we know shifts with his weather but when it lifts, and his sun shines, it warms the whole house. He helped Rob and I clean up after our family dinner. Gently telling me to go, they would pick up. “Go nap mom. We can do this.” That’s my boy. I see Rob in him at that moment. I see all the sweet hours Rob spends with Zig, helping him navigate the confusion of being a teenager that sees the world a little differently. At that moment I know that Zig is seeing Rob care for me. Tending to me and putting the kids and myself first. And Zig, in that moment, was reflecting it back to me. 


So I’ll have my tea and read my book.  I’ll drift off to the sounds of the house and its family resetting its gears for the long hot summer before us. And breathe a sigh of relief.





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fifty

  My sister turned fifty years old this week so I thought I would share some fascinating facts about Heather.  She has seen Poltergeist ninety times. Poltergeist was our It’s a Wonderful Life. It brought our family together. When we arrived at Walt Disney World one year, what was the first thing we did after the long ride? Curl up with cookies and Poltergeist of course. She attended sixty concerts in high school. Many alongside my dad. Poison, Cinderella, Neil Diamond, you name the band, she’s probably seen them.  When she was in high school, her Toyota Celica had a pile of tapes so high in the front passenger seat, My knees touched my chin anytime I rode shotgun.  Heather has an unheard of vocal range. I was so jealous. She has an amazing gift that she rarely shares. I remember all these professors coming to hear her range at one of her vocal lessons.  She’s smart. Scary smart. Like should be leading a criminal organization smart. Or maybe she is, and you just don’t know it. In high s
Read more

Mama

  Today my mom is dying. All I could see when I walked  into her room was that little girl. That scruffy little girl sitting in the grass. Smirking at the camera.  I gave her lots of kisses goodbye. One for each grandchild she helped me raise. One for each friend of mine she loved like her own. One for each time she made me laugh. Or yell. Or cry. Or smile. Or feel loved.  Driving home Heather and I saw the most incredible sunset. It was beautiful and messy and bright and clinging to its moment in the sky.  I will remember beautiful loud Christmas Eve parties. Her quiet strength with Ziggy and Charlie. How she loved my friends. That she was flawed but always full of generosity. I will try my best to do her proud. 
Read more

Holding Hands through Hell

   We’ve been tied up in a shit storm the past few months. My husband had serious spinal surgery. Then he got an infection. Then he got pneumonia. Then I had heart failure. Then my mom died.  Am I missing anything? In the midst of it all, I’ve cried and laughed and tried to make sense of it all with my friends and family. At one point I said, “Well, at least we’re all holding hands through hell.” It kind of resonated with them. Because that’s kind of all we have isn’t it? Life doesn’t really care sometimes. And all you can do is grip tightly to the things and people around you. And hope they grip back. Thank God I have people that have not only held onto me tight, but dragged me through the flames of these seasons in my life.  I know there is a light ahead. The path out of Hell is near. But honestly I’m not even looking anymore. All I can do is close my eyes and hope for the best. It’s my friends. My friends have me and will pull me through and back where I belong. 
Read more