LJ Idol Season 10 - Week 15: Patchwork Heart
I turned my back to the dying fire and crab-walked the six feet or so to the edge of the ridge we were camping along. I was sore and every muscle was just tired enough not to want to stand all the way up and then get back down again. But I wanted to finish my beer with my legs dangling down into the unknown, looking out at the distant town lights and feeling what little breeze there was this April night in the northeast corner of Alabama.
It was silly to have a fire, really, even just the couple of logs that we burned, but the girls liked a campfire, and as sure as I knew how many hours we'd spent filling out scholarship applications this week, I knew that there wouldn't be an infinite number of these trips with them left. Their faces around that fire had been as much of a treat for me as the marshmallows had been for them.
Uncharacteristically, Annie had turned in early, even before the little fire burned down. She'd taken a pretty good lead fall on Misty late in the afternoon and tweaked her ankle a bit when she swung into the wall. It was hard to tell, but it seemed likely that it would be okay after a night of rest. She had insisted on finishing the route, so it seemed like it couldn't be too bad despite some swelling. But the fall had been scary. A lot of energy had been expended. And I could see the blueish light of her screen in the tent. There were friends to communicate with back home.
Jazz had taken her ukulele back to the car and headed up to the bathhouse for that last trip before bed. I wasn't sure if she was coming back to the fire or zipping into the tent when she came back. I wasn't sure about so many things. It had been a week of mixed frustration and triumph, not unlike many other weeks, really. But now as the spring of their Junior year winds to a close, I am hyper aware of the way things are about to change.
They love such different things, and I can remember just a little bit of what it felt like to be in their shoes, with such a variety of open possibilities ahead. So many things to be fascinated with and so many ways to weave each of them into a path that could lead to happiness. They were feeling such pressure to make the best decisions now. That I knew.
I remembered a beloved teacher who tried to explain to me once, as I broke down at their age, that lots of choices were good ones- that I shouldn't stress so much about making those choices now. How could I explain to them that choosing a path that favored one option didn't invalidate the other things you truly loved? It was such an ongoing lesson. Here I was at 47, my hair gone grey, and my girls rope-gunning for me. But also, climbing stronger than I ever have yet. Not just getting up Misty, but considering leading it. I hadn't even dreamed about rock climbing yet at 17. Now it is my favorite. They've got so many things yet to welcome into their hearts.
I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the lactic acid burn. One thing I was certain of- we were all lucky to have the bodies we had. My old body was still resilient after all these years. There were aches and pains galore and some joints I had to be careful with, but it was still possible, even now, to get stronger, and that felt good. I thought of the girls and thought that our hearts were resilient, too. I guess I didn't need to try to think of a way to explain to them that you could love a lot of different things and be true to each of them in time. We'd been living that life since they were babies, and if that didn't communicate itself through action, it probably wouldn't through words. I laughed at myself. Now, I wanted so much to work on the art of wordsmithing, which has been a perineal part of my heart, since before I was the girls' age. But something about being the age I am now, gives it urgency again. I took another gulp of mango heifewiezen and sang what Jimmy Buffett said;
The working tide will come around again,
A serenade lies waiting in the wind.
And Jazz came up behind me and joined in, so we hurled the words together out into the void, even though the sun had left us;
For all your worldly treasures,
There's nothing to be won
Nothing left to measure
Just you and me and the colour of the sun.
I laugh because I'm singing these words and I have told this child (really both of the girls), ever since it made sense to discuss it, that if she wants to be a writer or an artist then she should study other things too, because she will likely need a career in something else, as well, to support herself. But the heart is vast. The heart can contain multitudes. And on this night, I think all of us are going to be alright.
_________________________
tonithegreat has been hanging with her family and contemplating what things might be like in scary places like her parents' shoes, or more safely, maybe ten years down the road. She likes to think that Jimmy Buffett and climbing at Sandrock and writing will still be among the foremost things in her heart.
This entry was composed for therealljidol, Season 10. Check out that community for lots of great writing from all kinds of folks. I highly recommend it.
If you enjoyed this piece, please remember me in idol-land and vote for it when the polls go up!
It was silly to have a fire, really, even just the couple of logs that we burned, but the girls liked a campfire, and as sure as I knew how many hours we'd spent filling out scholarship applications this week, I knew that there wouldn't be an infinite number of these trips with them left. Their faces around that fire had been as much of a treat for me as the marshmallows had been for them.
Uncharacteristically, Annie had turned in early, even before the little fire burned down. She'd taken a pretty good lead fall on Misty late in the afternoon and tweaked her ankle a bit when she swung into the wall. It was hard to tell, but it seemed likely that it would be okay after a night of rest. She had insisted on finishing the route, so it seemed like it couldn't be too bad despite some swelling. But the fall had been scary. A lot of energy had been expended. And I could see the blueish light of her screen in the tent. There were friends to communicate with back home.
Jazz had taken her ukulele back to the car and headed up to the bathhouse for that last trip before bed. I wasn't sure if she was coming back to the fire or zipping into the tent when she came back. I wasn't sure about so many things. It had been a week of mixed frustration and triumph, not unlike many other weeks, really. But now as the spring of their Junior year winds to a close, I am hyper aware of the way things are about to change.
They love such different things, and I can remember just a little bit of what it felt like to be in their shoes, with such a variety of open possibilities ahead. So many things to be fascinated with and so many ways to weave each of them into a path that could lead to happiness. They were feeling such pressure to make the best decisions now. That I knew.
I remembered a beloved teacher who tried to explain to me once, as I broke down at their age, that lots of choices were good ones- that I shouldn't stress so much about making those choices now. How could I explain to them that choosing a path that favored one option didn't invalidate the other things you truly loved? It was such an ongoing lesson. Here I was at 47, my hair gone grey, and my girls rope-gunning for me. But also, climbing stronger than I ever have yet. Not just getting up Misty, but considering leading it. I hadn't even dreamed about rock climbing yet at 17. Now it is my favorite. They've got so many things yet to welcome into their hearts.
I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the lactic acid burn. One thing I was certain of- we were all lucky to have the bodies we had. My old body was still resilient after all these years. There were aches and pains galore and some joints I had to be careful with, but it was still possible, even now, to get stronger, and that felt good. I thought of the girls and thought that our hearts were resilient, too. I guess I didn't need to try to think of a way to explain to them that you could love a lot of different things and be true to each of them in time. We'd been living that life since they were babies, and if that didn't communicate itself through action, it probably wouldn't through words. I laughed at myself. Now, I wanted so much to work on the art of wordsmithing, which has been a perineal part of my heart, since before I was the girls' age. But something about being the age I am now, gives it urgency again. I took another gulp of mango heifewiezen and sang what Jimmy Buffett said;
The working tide will come around again,
A serenade lies waiting in the wind.
And Jazz came up behind me and joined in, so we hurled the words together out into the void, even though the sun had left us;
For all your worldly treasures,
There's nothing to be won
Nothing left to measure
Just you and me and the colour of the sun.
I laugh because I'm singing these words and I have told this child (really both of the girls), ever since it made sense to discuss it, that if she wants to be a writer or an artist then she should study other things too, because she will likely need a career in something else, as well, to support herself. But the heart is vast. The heart can contain multitudes. And on this night, I think all of us are going to be alright.
_________________________
tonithegreat has been hanging with her family and contemplating what things might be like in scary places like her parents' shoes, or more safely, maybe ten years down the road. She likes to think that Jimmy Buffett and climbing at Sandrock and writing will still be among the foremost things in her heart.
This entry was composed for therealljidol, Season 10. Check out that community for lots of great writing from all kinds of folks. I highly recommend it.
If you enjoyed this piece, please remember me in idol-land and vote for it when the polls go up!