Do you see that iris with the sun shooting through it? Those irises have been growing there for the ten years I've been living here and that is the first blossom I'd ever seen from them. Why it decided to bloom this year is beyond me. More rain? The fact that the chickens sip water a few feet away and thus, have probably fertilized the area?
I have no idea but there it is.
I have more fully returned to myself today than in weeks. Even when I got home from our little trip away and was so full of relief and was happy, the anxiety beast still clung to my back. This morning it was there and then suddenly, there was a thought that felt like a little slip of light through a white curtain. I almost held my breath. And then, within half an hour, I was back. No difference in my life but suddenly, everything was completely different.
Has the medication increase kicked in?
Whatever. I am grateful beyond words.
The boys came over and they were as good and fun as they've ever been. There was no fussing. There was just one fun thing after another.
Nicey was played with. Even Gibson can pick her up. She is the sweetest chicken I have ever had. She walks on my feet if I stand still.
There was coloring and painting. They actually sat and painted for perhaps fifteen minutes which may be a world record.
There was a tea party and there was swinging. There were noodles and apples and carrots and peanut butter. There were several hot games of Old Maid and a few games played with a Tribond game board and the colored dice. We don't bother with the questions. Every time I'd roll a white, which meant I didn't get to move, Owen told me to just say, "Oh poop." And when he rolled a white, he would put his arm around my shoulder and say, "Oh poop. See, Mer? That's all you have to do."
He wanted me to win the last game and I did and he hugged me hard and then Gibson, who had been happily "writing" in a little notebook as we played, said, "Kiss!" and puckered up his lips and I kissed him.
I could have died from the sweetness.
They wanted to put make-up on me. I let them.
Owen did the blues and greens, Gibson the purples. They also did my hair and nails. And Gibson carefully patted powder all over my face. It was, to be frank, the most pampering I've received in a very long time.
And of course there was bamboo kicking. Or as Owen does it, bamboo pushing and pulling over. I got a video.
That's Owen in his Hulk mode. He sort of scares me.
And now I have the bathroom rug in the washer which had blue eye shadow powder dumped on it and I've put away the paints and washed the dishes and swept the floors. And I am tired but I am myself.
Owen asked me today, "Mer, when I was little, what did you talk to me about?"
"Don't you remember?" I asked him.
"I'm forgetting," he said. "Back when I was really little, like close to the ground."
I thought about it.
"I've always talked about everything to you, Owen. I think I talked to you about how much I loved you and about flowers and the sunshine and the birds and things like that."
He wasn't satisfied with my answer and I'm not sure what he expected to hear but truly, I think that is what I talked to him about. And how beautiful he was and how precious.
The same things I talked to Gibson about, and have since he was close to the ground.
I hope they don't forget everything I talk to them about. Or the chickens or the goats or the birds or the way the sunshine looks in the backyard or the way this house rambles or climbing trees or dancing in the hallway or picking flowers or my kisses and our games. Although I know they won't remember everything, I am willing to bet they'll remember a lot.
And even if they don't, if the internet is still here, maybe they can come back and read about it. See the pictures.
I just want them to know how loved they are. And have been since they were very, very close to the ground.
That's enough.
Love...Ms. Moon
Oh lady, they will not forget. They will hold these days in their hearts and someday, if they are writers, your house will be the sun drenched sanctuary they write about.
ReplyDeleteAs I have said many times, you are writing them a virtual baby book. What they wouldn't remember, they will. They will make new old memories. They will treasure this for always. I really believe that.
ReplyDeleteYou are the most awesome grandma!
ReplyDeleteThey may forget the words but they will always remember the love and joy you have brought into their lives.
your last paragraph and sentence brought tears to my eyes. How loved the boys are, how much love they have for you.........no, they will not forget. The love will lead them through their lives- it permeates all your lives
ReplyDeletesniffle sniffle, lovely post!
Susan in Ca.
I have six grandkids and the youngest is ten. Boy, have the years flown by. Two grandsons, ages 11 and 13, still spend the night with us a couple times a month. They like to talk about when they were little and stuff they did here. Like me doing cartwheels in the back yard with them, and reading "Goodnight Elmo" every night at bedtime. Last weekend the teenager said, 'you're the funnest grandma we have.' Words like that make me GLOW!
ReplyDeleteYes, it all brought tears to my eyes. So perfectly beautiful, all of it. And I hope you don't mind if I tell you that you look so YOUNG in that photo with all the makeup on!
ReplyDeleteI would like to book a makeover from your boys. it is very unique. Your boys will remember. Just think about all the things you remember and how you would feel if you had this to read one day. It is more than beautiful. Sweet Jo
ReplyDeleteI don't know if it's my hormones or what but this post gave me the salty tears. Your grandsons are so lucky to have such a cool Mer Mer who loves them so fiercely!
ReplyDeleteHow cute is that makeup job?!
When I was close to the ground - ah, heartache. So very sweet.
ReplyDeleteMy mother in law was recently deeply affronted when my daughter confessed she didn't remember a song she used to sing her as a toddler. What did I do it all for, she asked, if they're not going to remember.
I realised there was no real point trying to answer that...
Ms. Vesuvius- That would be wonderful! Now if Owen can only get over his dislike of books. Gibson still loves them. But if they just tell themselves the stories, that will be enough for me.
ReplyDeleteSJ- Either that or be incredibly grossed out and embarrassed throughout their lives. Ha!
Birdie- I am hoping to lay those things done in their very bones.
Susan M- We are strong in love, this family. It is the joy of my heart.
catrina- Yes! To be the funniest grandma would be wonderful!
Elizabeth- Amazing what a good application of make-up can do, right?
Sweet Jo- Wow. I wonder how my grandparents really DID feel about me? I will never know. And Mr. Owen and Mr. Gibson would certainly take you as a customer. As Owen said to me, "Someone comes to our door for make-up, we make them!"
heartinhand- Their little faces as they so seriously paint every square inch of my face! It makes me shiver with love.
Jo- Nope. No real point. Gosh. I'm sorry she said such a weird thing.
I love those boys. We all do - they are so easy to love. Their MerMer makes it easy with the say she talks about.
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear that whatever happened happened to get you back to yourself.
I don't think that they will forget. I remember the things my grandparents told me. My time with them was so precious. Just as the time they spend with you.
ReplyDelete