Tender

Tender

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

A year in a day (#reverb10, Day 15)

#Reverb10, Day 15, Prompt: 5 minutes. 
Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you mostwant to remember about 2010.



Tonight, my daughter and I danced together, and I felt lighter on my feet than I have in a long time. At first she watched me, as if afraid to let go and have fun only to have me walk away. My daughter sees me as walking away a lot, though I hope she eventually understands that perspective changes everything. After about twenty seconds, she decided to believe me and her face broke out in joy. We danced and twirled and laughed. Our eyes met and I saw how raw her love for me is. I softened my eyes to let them show her whatever she could see of my love. She started singing, "thank you thank you thank you love love love!" so I sang it with her. We collapsed to the ground and I wrapped her up in my arms on my lap, so small and portable, so warm and sweet. Her hair smelled like purity. Every cell in my being vibrated with love until I couldn't tell where she ended and I began, like the way we started together in one body. We sunk into each other and hugged for a minute; then, she jumped up. "Let's dance again, mommy!"

Tonight, my son and I laughed together. He was resisting tooth brushing by rote rather than actual aversion. I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of this nightly ritual we both dread, and caught his eye. He got the joke and his frown dissolved though he tried to keep a stoney face. I reached over and brushed his cheek with my hand. I lightly tickled his tummy and we giggled together. Our eyes met, and he intoned a few sounds - ah, enh, EEEEE, then stuck out his tongue, BLA! He was delighted when I repeated the tones back, complete with the BLA! His laugh surprised and thrilled him. We repeated back and forth for awhile, laughing between tones, our smiles taking up half our faces. Then, in a moment, my focus shifted. Suddenly and for only a second, I saw him as now, as an older child, as a teen, as a man, as an elder, as a force of energy, all at once! The shock of it pushed me backward. My laugh surprised us both, infecting him, and it felt like our joy in each other filled a void in the universe.

Tonight, my husband and I held each other. I stood my toes on his toes, our thighs and stomachs and chests pressed together, our faces buried in each others' necks, our arms holding tight. The rest of this memory I reserve for us.

Tonight, I moved with myself as one. I closed my eyes and played music arranged for someone I care about, sharing some of my love-space with that person and all those I think of when I'm in a state of love. I stretched and challenged my muscles, eased and massaged tensions, breathed my breath from my belly and felt the power I am building. I was, for several consecutive moments, calm, peaceful and certain. I held myself in a loving hug and relaxed into it, knowing that I am enough.

These memories are all I need to take, the culmination and representation of everything that mattered this year. They are infused into my being.

16 comments:

  1. And there you have it. I would tape this to my refrigerator, for those times when it is easy to forget. (We all have them).
    So much love here.

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  2. it was a very good night. thank you for taking time out of it to share with us. like thelma said, print it/tape it/remember it. love, and.

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  3. Wow. Divine. Heart melting. Joy. Thank you.

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  4. Beautiful. This is so real and beautiful.

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  5. You've brought tears to my eyes. Raw, sweet and achingly beautiful.

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  6. ...and I saw how raw her love was...

    The heartbreaking thing is that all our love, for anyone or anything we truly love, is always that raw. We just try to pretend we're not that raw. But it never really works, because when it gets down to it, all we really have, all we really are is that love, raw and heartbreaking.

    I love you, MrsW, for the way you stand unshielded, raw, allowing love to break you...

    ...and laughing with it.

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  7. You have dug deep into my heart and touched many nerves and feelings. You are such a wonderful writer and parent.

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  8. I.Love.This.(And.You!)

    brilliance. who knew you could capture a whole year in a single night. i bet you did.

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  9. Ah, wow! Thank you for sharing this ... you so beautifully expressed that energy of sharing moments with a child, and of making those moments loving ones even when they don't start out that way. I'm going to kiss my sleeping babies on my way to bed now. :)

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  10. You all make me feel so proud and happy to be able to share my life with you. Thank you.

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  11. Your words have added to the place in me that is less and less afraid of my future parenthood, of marriage, and of being myself. I want to keep that rawness in all these roles, and your words let me know it's possible. Thank you thank you thank you, and have a beautiful 2011.

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  12. Thank you for commenting though you didn't leave your name - I'm so happy to know that I was able to help you imagine a future that includes everything you want to be. You're very smart to question it. Too few do.

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  13. Your words take me back to the places of utter joy with my beloved daughter and for that you have my unbounded gratitude. I love you forever.

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  14. Robyn, I'm teary and smiling. You rock, my sister.

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  15. So beautiful - and so, present in the moment.

    That's often where Joy hides, isn't it? In the moment. That one we're rushing to get through because we're in such a hurry to get to the next moment, the one that seems to matter most in this moment.

    A few of my own magical times of connection with my daughters bubbled up as I read this. We still have them, but not as often. They're teens now and we all seem to be rushing to our next moments more often than immersing in this one.

    Thank you for reflecting the importance of Right Now to me today.

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  16. So beautiful, so present. Thank you.

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