Family Day Monday was the tail end of a four day weekend, because of the school board’s PD day on the Friday. It was so exciting and full of family and joy and rejuvenation and Quality Time that by the end of it all, I felt the need to contemplate how fortunate I am to be in these heady and golden days with the kids by escaping and hiding from them on Caleb’s top bunk, where the children aren’t supposed to go because the ladder is broken. I was looking for a few minutes of reading and catching up in my journal, but what good is writing in a journal if not to breathe in more deeply the moments that I have.
And yet they can smell when I have the good chocolate out and find their own ways up, raccoons without the fur and rabies, able to scale great heights with or without a fire escape. They will leave me soon enough, in their various ways, leaving my arms to climb the monkey bars, leaving the house for their activities, leaving the city or the country for their own adventures off in the big, scary world. No need to rush them out.
Grateful for these days that are brimming with noise and crumbs, as the world churns itself into disarray. This was the second weekend of road disruptions downtown with the “freedom” “convoy”, staff and customers stuck on the way to shop with all of the closures. The police have been indicating that we should be careful and watch out for the fringe element, and I want to look them in the eye, hair aghast: “are we not the fringe element we should all be concerned about, a stationery shop in 2022 trying to peddle fountain pens and pencil sharpeners and thank you cards? Are you not concerned that we may not make it out of this weekend okay?” We cling to the fringe of society and the accountant’s prophecies, both unpleasant places to be.
After all the chocolate is gone, the yellow turmeric tea has been spilled so it looks like someone has peed on the top bunk (surely it is actually tea), and someone has stolen my headphones to wear dancing around the house with fewer clothes on than they started with, I am left alone, and Chicken has found me, knowing that no one will come back again, the area having been raided of its few useful treasures.
Everyone has their own cross to bear.
Michelle Y said:
Liz! This post just hits me in all the right places. Heart singing and breaking and delighting. xoxo