Tuesday, September 20, 2011

it will never come again

We are newly DIRECTV customers, and I admit with only slight discomfort that I love the DVR. My first DVRing. It is enabling me to watch all the new fall shows I want, without children's bedtime conflicts or husband's sports interference and bringing excellent side benefits like this quote from Emily Dickenson, courtesy of Mr. Cyr on NBC's Parenthood, explaining to the parents of his new English students his desire to make studying the Romantics a fun memory:

"That it will never come again

is what makes life so sweet."

I'm trying to live more deliberately, but I forget sometimes. My children's health problems threw me into survival mode for so many years. I sometimes hunched and cowered in that giant consuming hole in my life, and sometimes crept around the edges of it, and if I was a half-hearted housekeeper or non-meal planner or didn't dress for a couple of days, well, hey, at least I was still moving in a somewhat forward-facing direction. I don't have that excuse anymore. The chasm is out on the horizon now, and I have just this time. This is not where I thought I'd be at 37. I am not who I thought I would be when I was fifteen. But that story is getting kind of old with over-exposure and this is the story now: my choices brought me here. My children brought me here, and they are so good. I have excellent friends, a smashing family, health benefits, and employment (well, the husband/sugar daddy does, and he is an excellent sharer). That is good. And cancer's trace on our life is currently limited to 3-month MRIs and a matching pair of "cancer sucks" bumper stickers. That is lucky. So I want only to be a half-hearted housekeeper or found in yesterday's tee because I am engrossed in train track building with my 2-year-old or have a really great book to immerse in on the porch swing or am busy deciding on the font for my moss graffiti. Because who am I? I'm a woman who thinks too much of fear and of guilt, but I don't want to be. Another gem from Parenthood, the so-beautiful Bonnie Bedelia to her fearful daughter, "I mean, there could always be an issue if you want there to be an issue. C'mon, relax! You, know, enjoy yourself." "Who can do that?" "What's stopping you? What's stopping you?" I know fear and guilt will always be there with me, but I want to look them in the face and accept them and not give them more power than they deserve. I want to be good, but I want the motivation to be my good desires and a desire to see and enjoy the goodness in life. I am a woman whose house number is written in moss on her front porch (coming) and who has friends who think spending a misty morning gathering moss for said project and photographing colorful mushrooms on the Appalachian Trail (current) is the best choice for a Tuesday morning. BECAUSE: the juxtaposition of colorful fungus-brought-by-late-summer-rain

and first-bright-leaves-falling in such a green, green world will not come again this year.

And the morning (we and they, together in the woods, these woods that make me want to stay here and where we know fairies hide-live-dance) was incredibly sweet.

(I am also a woman who wants to keep this moment and share it with you...unlike the character in CBS's Unforgettable--currently being recorded by the DVR so I can sit and write this instead--I have a very friable memory. So, blog, hello again...so many projects and moments to share and keep and I am building an identity here!)