Saturday, May 14, 2011

May 10, 2011

My darling are 10 today. How can that be?

Only yesterday you were pushing and stretching against my taut belly, insisting on an early arrival. Only last night you were cutting your first teeth, taking your first tumbles, growing your first curls, smiling that beautiful smile I know so well, all glossy with baby drool and accompanied by your baby squeals. Only this morning you were swimming in the sea of your Hawaiian home, trotting barefoot across the lawn of your Waimea pre-school, holding my hand for ring-around-the-rosie...again. Only this afternoon you were winning your first skateboard competition, idolizing Mrs. Seliskar in your 2nd grade class, painting award-winning tropical fish with bubbles for farts that no one would notice.

And now, this evening, look at you. So big. So wonderful. I blink and try to refocus--who is this tall boy with curls that graze his shoulder blades? Who is this kind-hearted, quick-witted, generous and compassionate boy? Oh, it is my bunny. My baby boy. My love, I'm so proud of you. I love you so much. Happy 10th birthday, sweet one.

Ever, Mommy

Friday, May 6, 2011


I settle in to the Green Mountains. They receive me with water, in all its forms, and with leaves budding all around--promise of spring. If I am to understand this transition from one season to the next as symbolic of my own reluctant transformation, then there is hope yet of the full bloom for which I have prepared myself.

Leaf buds hold tight to branches still brittle from winter's long cold, but they begin, slowly, hesitantly, to unfurl. Tulips and daffodils shyly appear in clusters along the edge of a lawn or near a doorway, and though the temperature is chilly, the sun graces them at intervals, spills its light over them with its usual ardor.

Birds flit around the periphery of my awareness and  catch the attention of dogs that stretch, awaken, and begin to shed their winter weight and coats. The promise is there. Evidence of this change is everywhere. Believe in it, I whisper, and I am speaking to the air. To the sky. To my own trembling heart.