On being...

Elijah has been playing with friends all weekend and Ezra has had 3 hour naps and I have had some stolen moments just to be. As Ezra watched Elijah and a neighbor play Hungry Hungry Hippo, another neighbor gifted me a homemade candy apple. I chomped away at this childhood treasure loving that the hard candy refused to break down between my teeth. Some of the sweetness melted and landed on my arm, shirt, chin.

I took in the Halloween decorations on the windows,the lit acrylic pumpkin and the red roses, yellow mums and daisies I bought myself yesterday. The children's laughter and childhood became background music to my delectable moments on the couch with my front door wide open as fall ripened before me.

On My Birthday

Last year, I was obsessed with cleaning my closet. Little did I know what my personal new year would include. One item that I kept in my closet while I was de-cluttering had grown simultaneously so misshapen, shrunken and over-sized that it slunk to the floor of the closet. The fabric frayed and faded as I held on hoping it could be fixed. The article took on a life of it's own and therefore determined when it had enough of being in my life.

Year 32 is over.

The decade of when I arrived in Maryland at 22 and 10 months has trudged along in so many ways, but last week it trudged right past me and I waved gleefully. I'm grateful for the 10 years, but am thrilled they are gone with more painful memories than I care to recount.

I feel a certain freedom from all of the different articles that tried their best to dress me into a woman I would never be. I am excited to enter into a time period where I am free to be me in every aspect.

On what God knows..

Tonight Elijah was reading from his book, God Knows and I heard him read aloud, "He heals the brokenhearted." I didn't pay any attention until I heard him say "Granddaddy and died." I asked him what he said. "Granddaddy shouldn't have died."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"It says, "God heals the brokenhearted. God shouldn't have let granddaddy die. He should have healed his heart."

I stared speechless in amazement. Tears formed in my eyes. I smiled at my boy. I kissed him and told him I loved him.

He asked, "are you sad, mommy?"

I said, "yes."

He hugged me, patted my back and told me, "it's ok."

I haven't teared up over my dad's absence in quite some time. And my amazing 6 year old boy thought about his grandfather who he last saw at 18 months old and remembered that I explained in little kid terms that my father's heart stopped working and that was why he died (almost 2 years ago).

Elijah believes in God and God's ability that it only made sense to him that God could stop someone from dying since God is in the business of healing the brokenhearted.

It wasn't until I opened the book that I read the sentence before the scripture: "He knows just how sad I was the day my goldfish died." Elijah's brilliance was returned to above average intelligence (thank goodness) after I learned the context of the scripture. However, I'm even more shocked that Elijah didn't fixate on his own dead goldfish and remember that I never replaced the creature. Instead, he thought of a man he would never remember. He didn't think about being sad. He just thought about why God wasn't on his post.

I'm at amazed at what God knows and chooses to do and not do. I'm amazed at what God has given me in these two boys.

The silence is eerily welcome.
The disarray on the floors,
counters,
and bedrooms
mirror
that in my mind.
The chore list is long
and
looping.
I hear a baby
crying
when there isn't
one.

On swimming lessons with the baby

I had the greatest moment with the baby today. He started swimming class today and he took to the water as though it were a big bathtub. While the other kids clung to their parents, he tried to venture out on his own, pulling away from my tightening grasp. He was confident and enthusiastic.

I usually just love watching him piddle around the house, on the playground,or just out and about. He loves to climb on things and throw things. He loves to make sure people know he's there, by tapping them on their knees. He's a joy to watch.

However, for the first time in a very long time, I felt like I was really with him--like I was a part of his fun, happiness, exploration, instead of just a bystander taking it all in. It was an intimate experience, like we were in this thing together. I held him under his arms and let him lay belly up on the water as I pulled him along. The droplets on his eyelids only made his eyes seem wider than normal. He was fully engaged because I was there. His laugh as he splashed the water on me and his classmates made my heart skip a beat. Even his sweet baby cough when he swallowed too much water was the infamous Renee' Zellwegger line "you had me at hello." This small child who can only say one word at a time, has had me since I knew he was in my womb and it only intensifies with each splash, and smile.

I'm not sure how it happened that I could be so blessed to have him in my life and to be able to be in the water with him as he takes swimming lessons.

On Henry "Box" Brown

This evening, for the first time in a long time, I sat and listened to my son read, just listened. I didn't read something else while he read, I didn't wish he would hurry and finish. I didn't care when the baby pulled all the legos out of the box I had just put up. I didn't wonder what time it was. I sat and listened.

And then I was mindfully aware of my listening. For a minute, I drifted and thought how cool it was that this 6 year old was reading about Henry "Box" Brown, when I didn't learn this story until I was in grad school. I marveled at the questions Elijah asked while reading; I didn't make him continue reading and ask his questions at the end. But we talked. He told me, he wouldn't like to have been a slave because of the manacles (no, he didn't use that word) on their hands. He asked where he would be sent to, if he was sold away. He asked how to pronounce and then what tobacco was. He asked what a mistress was. He talked about how Nancy and Henry's children had hair like Nancy and Henry. And then he told me, that when Henry got to Philadelphia, he probably went to play games.
It was a very freeing moment!