larger view

and wrote in my notebook while I waited:

I sat in my beloved Jane, known to the rest
of the world as my Ford Explorer, outside an
office bearing the sign “H.e.a.r.t.s
Connection – a family resource center
for special families”.

I resented my need to be there at all.

I didn’t want to have what society calls “a special
family”. I wanted a slightly-on-the-edge-of-normal
family, a quirky family with an assortment of odd
characters dropping by, uninvited-yet-always-invited.

I didn’t and don’t want to be a “special” family,
draped in excessive niceties.

I want to be gritty and real with this yet I need,
more often than not, soft cuddles and calm
sssshhhhhsssssshing like a baby nestled on her
Mommy’s shoulder as she is rhythmically patted,
one ear close enough to the maternal heart to
hear the gentle workings inside.

Swoosh, swoosh. Swoosh, swoosh.

I don’t want niceties. I want the wordless
comfort of Swoosh, swoosh. Swoosh, swoosh.

I spent time with William Zinnser as I waited.
He made giggles flow out of my mouth as
I avoided going through that door.

I steadfastly didn’t arrive at the meeting
and didn’t arrive at the meeting and didn’t
arrive at the meeting. I was clear on not
wanting to be there and aware of the
simultaneously deep seeded need to be
there, anyway.

I was reminded of Sharing Parents, long ago,
Marlena and tears and tissue boxes passed
from person-to-person on journeys around
the circle as one after another, stories
were shared. Salty relief flooded our faces
as we shared bits and pieces of our lives
that didn’t feel safe to share
with “the rest of the world”.

I remember never wanting to be there, either.

I listened with my head down, focused on
the pencil scrawling across the page, and
heard the wind pushing the leaves against
each other, a slight rustling, a water
tumbling over rocks sound, a God sound,
reminding me that I can do this, whatever
incarnation of this I am living right now.

I took a drink of my ubiquitous iced tea
and hesitatingly slowed the movement of
my pencil, knowing the next thing would
be rolling up windows and propelling
myself through the doors and into
the meeting.

I hear murmurs as the people who know
each other arrive. I hear flip flops
flipping and flopping against heels.

I put my notebook down, opened my
car door and left to go to the meeting.