you're free now...
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom.
Haven't had much time to write lately. Or to practice yoga, go to the gym and walk around feeling strong, read novels or poetry and get so excited about a paragraph or a verse that I hector everyone around me to STOP EVERYTHING and READ THIS right now. Haven't had enough time to meditate, or sit and drink my tea, talk on the phone with friends, surf blogs and say Amen! to the wonderful insights and stories I find there. Haven't had time to do the things that make my hours sing, and make me feel satisfied at the end of the day because I did what I needed to do. The things that allow me to name a day GOOD.
No, lately my days have been different. People I love have needed errands run, rides given, phone calls made, hours spent mulling decisions that need to be made or sitting in doctor's offices wondering how to explain a life to someone who may or may not give a damn. Have had to look into those faces in those offices and try to make them understand.
In the past, I would have really been thrown by this disruption of my routine, this unglodly interference with my "goals". But not this time. This time I've accepted that right now this is what I need to be doing, and it, too, is good.
This afternoon, arriving at the grocery store with my mother where I was shopping for three households, I was stopped by a lethargic supermarket employee. It was windy and this young woman clearly didn't want to push the two shopping carts she'd corralled uphill and into the store.
"Here, why don't you take these two?" she said in a helpful tone.
"Okay. Thank you," I said, pushing the carts up the hill. (Of course, one had a recalcitrant wheel.)
"You could have gotten a cart inside; she was just trying to get you to do her job," Mom pointed out.
"I guess she was," I said, still pushing.
"And you thanked her for it."
"I'm happy to be of service," I said. Really, I hadn't been all that happy about it, but saying it suddenly made me feel I was.
We had reached the top of the hill, and my mother took my arm. "What a wonderful attitude," she said, smiling at the bright day around us.
I didn't bother to explain that my attitude wasn't particularly a virtue. In fact, I'd invented it on the spot.
Then, leaving the store, my mother didn't want to get in the car.
"What's the matter?" I asked. We had two grocery carts full of food, and my mother was insisting she help load them into the trunk--despite a severe case of bursitis in her shoulder. I just wanted her to sit and rest.
"I was thinking of my father," she said. "And how once I had taken him somewhere, and I must have gotten impatient with him."
Really, I hadn't been impatient with Mom--at least, I don't think I had, but I'd felt the edges of impatience. Perhaps she had sensed it.
"What happened?" I said, allowing her to lift some the light bags , realizing that she didn't want to sit in the car and rest. She wanted to be of service, too.
"He pointed his finger at me and said, 'Someday you'll be old, too. And you know when?"
I stopped what I was doing and waited for her to finish.
"Sooner than you think. Much sooner than you think."