the shape of August
I went to the beach yesterday with a friend and his three year old son. It felt so good, watching that kid roll around on the beach, and throw sand at people, and take off running down the boardwalk butt naked and screaming, watching others judge me for being his too-hands-off slacker mom. So complete, dancing and playing one-two-three-up and coaxing the him into the scary, scary waves. My goals yesterday were to sleep in the sun and work on my melanoma, to get the kid to walk in the ocean past his waist, and to eat stupid-cheap deep-fried fish. Check, check, and check.
On the way back, kid sleeping the sleep of exhausted dirty toddlers, my friend asked me how I was, what I've been doing to help cope. "It's complicated," I said, and "Saying 'yes' when people ask if I want to go to the beach." Long silence, there.
Usually I find a lot of peace there, but yesterday's fullness is just making today all the more empty. I have my tomatoes and my dogs, and D will be home at some point tonight and might even have the energy to do something fun, but it's not the same. Feels a little pointless, even, without a small human on my hip or at my knee to slow me down, help me be in the moment and soak it all in.
Speaking of tomatoes, I am beginning to feel as though I exist in a tomato-based economy. Tomatoes canned, and sauced, and eaten out of hand instead of peaches. Tomatoes traded for containers in which to freeze tomato sauce, and for food which is not tomatoes. Used to lure friends to hang out with me while I tend my tomatoes, and to encourage more experienced nurses to write me better recommendations, so I can get a job, and earn cash money, and maybe regain some of my self-respect.
Tomatoes. It's August, and this is what's for dinner.
On the way back, kid sleeping the sleep of exhausted dirty toddlers, my friend asked me how I was, what I've been doing to help cope. "It's complicated," I said, and "Saying 'yes' when people ask if I want to go to the beach." Long silence, there.
Usually I find a lot of peace there, but yesterday's fullness is just making today all the more empty. I have my tomatoes and my dogs, and D will be home at some point tonight and might even have the energy to do something fun, but it's not the same. Feels a little pointless, even, without a small human on my hip or at my knee to slow me down, help me be in the moment and soak it all in.
Speaking of tomatoes, I am beginning to feel as though I exist in a tomato-based economy. Tomatoes canned, and sauced, and eaten out of hand instead of peaches. Tomatoes traded for containers in which to freeze tomato sauce, and for food which is not tomatoes. Used to lure friends to hang out with me while I tend my tomatoes, and to encourage more experienced nurses to write me better recommendations, so I can get a job, and earn cash money, and maybe regain some of my self-respect.
Tomatoes. It's August, and this is what's for dinner.