TwitterJun 01 2010
The Walk . . .
After a full day of caring for a set of toddler twin girls I set off to take my walk with Caleb. While I waited for him on the street in front of his house I put on my white ankle socks and sneakers while I continued to listen to my newest, utterly delightful book on CD: “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter”.
Finally Cal raced out carrying a water bottle and bearing a smile. After a hello hug we set out. Throughout the walk Cal’s head stayed largely turned up tracking the clear water bottle as he threw it as high as he could. Then gauging its descent, he raced to catch it again and again. I also watched as it soared, delighting with him at how high it went and for his every catch. I kept waiting for that bubble filled bottle to miss his grip, smash against the sizzling black top, and spew water everywhere. I also watched, with careful concern, for it’s downward arch and stepped, with agile quickness out of its way.
The path of our walked ambled from here to there as I sought the cooling shelter of available trees casting long, early evening shadows and Cal followed without a break in his stride or the tilt of his head, as 8 year olds are so agily capable of doing.
As we were trodding up a steady incline, the type that makes you slow your pace and breath heavier due to its continous length, he stopped throwing his bottle and asked, “What was my first word?”
I answered, a bit sadly, “You know, I don’t remember. I was pretty sick when you were that little and some things I just don’t recall. Remember our talking about that?”
“Oh, yeah.” And in his effort to really get his brain more fully wrapped around “my sickness” he said, “So you must have not felt well a lot. Like been tired and stuff.”
“Yes, that and more. I’m only here today because of Dr. John’s skill and healing techniques.”
“I’m happy about that,” he said, I wouldn’t have wanted you to die.” Then he paused thoughtful and added, “I’m glad I have life,” and looked up at me and smiled.
Those five words really got to me. They caused a question to etch across the folds of my brain, “Have I ever been glad I had life?” I don’t recall feeling that way ever honestly. As a child I was doing all I could to survive and endure, that pretty much consumed me and I think that that way of living continued with me even until today. The times I felt the freest, the most at peace was on the playground that stood next door to my grandmother’s. There I spent hours of carefree play swinging so high with my friends we all feared we might loop back over the top bar, climbing monkey bars and daring myself to stand on the top arms outstretched like the boys, teter tautering with a freind or simply running up and down it on my own or sitting at its center keeping it perfectly balanced, and sliding down what I considered the world’s highest slide. A metal structure with about 20 stairs that had little dull claws to grab and steady the soles of the children who climbed to its full height, it had a shiny, mirror like slide that at the peak of the noon day sun would burn through our thin cotton shorts making it only for the bravest and strongest to attempt going down. Then, when the season was right, I daily swam long hours in the “Little Pool” the round blue concrete wonder that couldn’t have been more than 2-2 1/2 feet deep at its exact center. The spot where Robert and I would grip the metal drainage grate beneath us in order to stay submerged and compete to see who could stay under the longest.
This was where I was the happiest. This was where I spent as many hours as I could from early morning to early evening pausing only to get lunch and then a quick dinner. This was where there was quiet. Peace. A measure of safety.
I thought of that time as I examined myself and the span of my life here on this planet, asking, ”Can I say that I’ve been glad I had life? Did I at least during my time on the playground have this feeling?” Honestly? No. My time on the playground was me simply loving my time there whether with friends or alone. At that moment. Thankful for the freedom. The sun warming my hair and the cool of the evening shadows as they stretched across the lawn. It was my place of escape, for solitude away from the troubles that lay at home.
Yesterday, from the mouth of one of the most pleasent 8 year olds I know, who also happens, thankfully to be my son, came one of the most thought provoking, life and thought altering statments for me. And I think it was so jolting due to his tender age. To hear someone so young utter such a statement is unavoidably noteable.
So today I make it my goal to reach for the simple contentment of having life. Not to just “put in my time” doing what I can while I’m here for the service of others, or to make a difference, or even for the need and eranest desire to be the best mom I know to be, for my children, but for me. For the sheer pleasure of being glad that… I have life. . .
Love ya,
Theresa Jane
-Cal’s water bottle survived 50 minutes into our walk then it smashed. And when it did it, “made the coolest pattern” rendering it worth the loss of serving as a thrist quenching fluid for Cal. Also Dan and Grace joined us for the last 15 minutes rendering my evening a delight with my three youngest before they, with great excitment and expectation, loaded into their sisters Blessing’s car to spend the night with her at her apartment.
