A Celebration Of Life For My Very Much Alive Darling Girl

Thirty years ago today was definitely the worst day of my life. I never mark the anniversary though. I believe that is because even thinking about the day slams me right back to the day and I am overwhelmed, drowning in the emotions I had, the fear I felt.
The event that happened on that day, which I do not want to remember but absolutely will never forget, is that May got hit by a car on her way to school. 

Look. I'm not going to go into details about injuries because there just is no need but they were extensive and the fact that she is here today, that she can, as she said to me, walk and dance all these years later is some sort of miracle. 

It was every parents' nightmare, from the phone call at seven something in the morning to getting to the hospital where she was taken, not knowing a damn thing about what had happened except that she'd been in an accident and the police called me to tell me. They called Glen too, and although he was at least four miles away and I was about four blocks away from the hospital, he beat me there. He opened the door of the ambulance. 

All right. That's all I want to say about it right now. Or maybe ever again. My baby May, sixteen years old, had been grievously injured. That is enough to know. 

So last night when she texted me and asked if Daddy and I would like to meet her and Michael for lunch as it was the thirtieth anniversary of her accident and she wanted a little celebration of life, of course I said I absolutely would. And Glen did too. He'd gotten home just a few hours before but he knew how important this was. 
 
And we did meet them. I put on a very blue dress and even make-up and perfume. Hell. I wore real shoes! And the swankiest bracelet I own. Mr. Moon dressed in a long sleeved button up shirt and a pair of nice Levi's and off we went to downtown Tallahassee which neither of us has visited in many years. And there were Michael and my darling, dancing May who was so strong and who is so strong and so beautiful and why the heck didn't I take a picture of her and Michael? I just didn't even think about it. I was too busy taking them in. 
We hugged and hugged and hugged. And we talked for two hours while we ate delicious lunches under the oak trees and sky. 

I was so glad to be there. So honored that May asked us to join them. I told her that if all those years ago on this date, I could have seen the tiniest glimpse of what we'd be doing today, it would have relieved me so much. We talked about the accident a little. Mostly the funny things that happened because funny things did happen and we clung to them as proof that my girl was going to live, and how much we loved her surgeon who put her leg back together. There were some tears but it was mostly joy that here we were. Strong and alive and loving each other so much. 

"Life." said Kurt Vonnegut, "There is just no stopping it." 

And here's a tiny bit of life from Lloyd today.

This little anole was almost right in the center of one of my sea grape leaves. Can you imagine being so tiny that you don't even bend a sea-grape leaf? Also- if I had those eyes, I'd never have to put on eye shadow again. 

The tea olive blooms are more fragrant right now than any other year I can remember. 

I picked two tiny branches of them to bring into the kitchen and put in a vase with two late roses. 

Life, no matter what, does indeed hold sweetness even if it is so small that we hardly see it. Recognizing it and holding it close is important, I think. 

May and I held each other close today and the sweetness was immense. I am beyond grateful that we can and that we did. 

Happy day of still dancing, May. Your mama loves you. But you know that. 

Love...Ms. Moon