Saturday, July 04, 2009

July.

Can it really be July 4th? It seems like the days flow out from under me too fast, regardless of my efforts to slow them down. In 26 days, my little I. will be nine. NINE!

I won't get too sentimental, but it is impossible to think that nine years could have passed in such a seemingly short time. If I logically untangle the years, I can see the vast ways that both he and I have changed... but the gloriously mixed up prism of memories has him playing Thomas Trains, ecstatically jumping in his johnny jump up in the kitchen doorway... coloring Transformers and playing his toy guitar.

Now, we discuss global warming and play Wii. He draws Phineas and Pherb and takes guitar lessons. Afternoons find him lazing about, reading voraciously... quite my son.

I am humbled and infinitely fortunate to have my children--but I will never again be unaware of the swift hand of time.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

As the dust settles...

...this new year comes on tennis shoed feet, the parade of boxes and bags and the motley mix of furniture and random stuff that used to be my home.

I am apprehensive, excited: ready? Yes. But taking deep breaths all the same.

The kids are a mix, as varied as my things. S. is of course ecstatic--ready for the new. I. is more reluctant, clinging to the only home he has ever known.

Tonight I sit amid... nothing and everything, the memories of the past beaten back to faint lurkers in my mind. Bits of tinsel litter the wood floor; endless stray legos lie amid the newspaper and forgotten piles.

How do you pack up an old life? In jumbled boxes, in bits and pieces. In bags and crates and baskets. The reconfiguration is the release, the renewal.

I am happy and sad and it is okay: the new year begins.