Well, they can't and speaking of waves, these things all go in them, just as does water, sound, love, the powerful contractions of birth, our very breath.
But it wasn't a bad day today, considering. Flat ginger ale compared to yesterday's shooting stars of champagne and fuck it- better flat ginger ale than wormwood and bitters.
I faded as the day passed, even though the boys were here and it was fun, watching them try out some of the new elements of the play yard. Owen loved the trapeze. He hung from his knees for the first time ever. Something that I have never done in my life along with never having done a cartwheel.
Am I the only human being who ever lived who never did either of these two things?
Well. Here's the boy.
I am so proud of him. He was scared at first to have his mama let go of his legs but then he told her to and she did and he wanted to do it over and over again. And he flew, too. The daring young man.
Gibson liked the swing. A lot.
I think he would have let me push him gently all afternoon long if I hadn't finally said, "That's enough, little man. That is enough."
He fell asleep right before his daddy got here, cuddled up on my chest. He was looking at the pictures on my phone- one of his favorite things to do since he is in about 3/4's of them.
"Nap," he said, and snuggled in more comfortably and I felt the weight of sleep come upon him.
Faded. I feel as if I have faded. Mr. Moon and I sat down to a game of cards after the boys left and three hands in and I was done.
"You'll have to be patient with me," I told my poor, long-suffering husband. I'm trying to get adjusted to this drug."
And he is. He is so patient with me.
Yesterday I was just so full of love for him and for everything. My life. This good life. Not that I'm NOT in love with it all today. It's just...different. But yesterday I couldn't imagine why I'm ever not joyful with all of it. With the reality of it in the present, with the possibility of it all until it is no more.
Waves. And I need to be patient with myself and with the process as the waves rise and recede upon the shores of life and breath.
Gonna go heat up that seafood. Gonna go make a salad, mix up some cocktail sauce, slice some limes.
Going to be grateful for this day. For waves.
In some sort of beautiful synchronicity, a friend of mine just sent me this picture from Little Gasparilla Island, south of here but on the same Gulf so near to here.
Waves. They can be beautiful. They are necessary. Let us remember this.