Today is not beginning like I envisioned it- and it is funny how the world works in order to remind you of what is important, what is transitory. I found out that a friend of mine, a fellow teacher- Meg, was killed in a freak parking lot accident yesterday. We haven't taught together in years, and had become just facebook friends, but Meg was a role model to me- she was an English teacher, the teacher of the year the year I became teacher of the year by default- she left for graduate school and I was first runner up. Meg went on to get her doctorate in curriculum in Raleigh, the same course that I would love to take but it would require moving there. She moved- and graduated this spring, just accepted a teaching position at a university up in New York. She was excited to start her new life, and - keeping in touch by facebook- encouraged me to keep with studying, to go on to the doctorate degree, to apply for the job in Raleigh. (*Everyone*- I have applied, and have an interview- may the fates take us where they will!). Her life seemed so golden to me- she was wealthy, and lovely, and kind and smart- someone everyone liked. She was not a small woman, but dressed well, was beautiful- like a benevolent Valkyrie- and yes, we also had our disagreements. But even they were good ones. And now- now that story is over.
I am reminded again about what is important- death always makes us think of that. And today is Grendel's birthday, and we are leaving for the games in the mountains, and Charles is staying here to work and watch doggs- and I am thinking deep thoughts while it rains on the windows. Twenty-three years ago today Grendel came into the world. The first words I heard when he was born was 'it's a baby boy and he has red hair!' and then I heard his voice. He was his own self from the beginning, and Joanna (another friend gone) always claimed that he was a changeling child and blessed. (Joanna was an artist and a teacher and lived in an old mill house- she knew things.) Thinking on that, his godmother Barbara said the same- a magic child. And he was, or at least I tried to give him as magic a childhood as I could manage.
So, Dear Son, you are grown- yet we go on adventures together and I hope we never stop that. I know that you will get to the places that you need to go, that your life will take hold and your purpose will unfold. We are not the family of shooting stars with rapid rises to the top, but rather steady spirals that take us around and back to places, learning lessons many times before we find our way. This isn't a bad thing, for it makes for a long and interesting life- and a happy one. We create stories that other people tell. What I want for you is the same as most mothers want for their children- I want you to be happy and healthy, I want you to find love and keep it, I want you to have enough wealth to be safe, sound and a bit spoiled. Mostly I just want you to be you, and to be appreciated for it. I love you, and I am very glad that you are part of my world.
And, Dear Husband, who so patiently waits while I venture off yet again, I thank-you for your kindness and your love. I never thought we would turn out like this, because we are both very different from when our story began, but shadows just make the light glow brighter. Out life is not perfect, nor our house, nor our work- and definitely not our bodies- but they are two of a kind and help to hold each other against the world. Sometimes- even when I get frustrated or angry, caught up in the worries over all the material things, or sometimes when I get to knowing things- and the seams are coming apart, I just have to be near you, hear you and I remember. I find my balance in your voice, I hear the echo of time in your heart beat and I think of the measure of forever. I do love you, no matter what~
but please and thank-you try to mow the grass?
and boy- remember to wear your sunscreen.
And everyone, it is the small things that make our days worthwhile- both the letters written in love, and the reminders of tasks- the daily grind on our way to the stars.
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