There is nothing particularly special about this picture. It was taken several days ago -- poorly posed and in poor lighting. Still, I find myself looking at it. Repeatedly.
There seems to be some message for me in it: some message about my life – what it is now, what it’s always been, and what it’s becoming. A message of hope and blessing and connection. The people in that image? They are mine. And I am theirs. Our existences are all intertwined. Our spheres all . . . full of one another. We love each other. We really like each other. And . . . that group is, amazingly, only a small small part of “us” – of those we claim. Why, only HALF of my siblings are even in this picture. I just keep looking at it. And thinking.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am driving Abe home from violin lessons. There is a song playing (though what it was I’ve now forgotten).
Abe sighs and says, “Don’t you wish our lives had background music?”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes I do.”
“And that only our upper jaws moved?” Abe sneaks in (with a clever little smile).
“Yes,” I agree, without a pause. “I do wish that. Of all the things I wish, that is the thing I most wish for.”
Also, he’s always claiming to be taller than me. He never is. But recently . . . his claim has become harder to refute.
No small feat (perhaps I should have said feet) since I am 5’11”. Of course . . . he’s standing very military-like . . . and my head is kind of less “at attention”. So I think I’ve still got him beat.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talking to Penny.
Me: Soon you’ll be all grown up and that will be crazy.
Pen: I’ll visit you every day! Well . . . every . . . three times a week. Unless . . . I move to Pennsylvania. . . . Then . . . (and she shrugs – as if to say – “you’re out of luck”).
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Jesse pulls open our sliding glass door and tromps in – pulling off gloves and tracking snow in his wake. “Mom,” he tells me, offhandedly, “I thought Anders would like me to throw a snowball at him, but . . . he didn’t.”
Those boys. They are best friends and worst enemies -- on repeat -- all day long.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Goldie really loves some particularly great things. Like . . . really loves. The three small cacti we gave her for Christmas are cherished (and the one that “didn’t make it” had to be officially buried and mourned – after all, he had a name). There is also little on earth that makes her as happy as a pomegranate or a pineapple. She could scarcely believe when I let her get a pineapple at the store the other day. She is always finding awesome things to take to birthday parties for her friends – like small bamboo plants. It’s kind of dear somehow.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
And . . . a few random pictures. Summer mastering the art of “sitting up” (it opens a whole new wondrous world), playing at Bear Lake with cousins, and other bits of this and that.
5 comments:
Happiness and love.
“I do wish that. Of all the things I wish, that is the thing I most wish for.”
Hahahaha!
Just imagine it for awhile, Marilyn! All our heads having to flop up and down -- muppet like -- as we talk or chew. It's pretty great. How could one not wish for it?
You are right. One would have to have a heart of stone not to wish for it! And I wish you could see Sam do his muppet impression. It IS, truly, great.
love it! love summer's sweet little baby toes that still curl in. (LOVE that!) and seriously STILL chuckling at the snowball incident. hilarious. :)
i love to come "visit" and catch up!!
Post a Comment