Friday, April 20, 2012

This Is What Happened On One Day In This Life

It was an Owen day and it was a good day.
My boy is changing so much and so quickly and I am constantly amazed at what I see and hear and observe in him. He holds his hand out to me to hold and it is a boy's hand now, definitely not a baby's. It is bone and flesh and purpose and the cleverness of the primate, the human.

He immediately wanted to go see the baby chickens when he got here. I had made oatmeal cookies- I finally did my baking- and I thought he'd want one but no, he HAD to go see the chicks and since I had one last batch in the oven, his daddy took him outside to see them. One of them escaped and was running around the little coop and I went out and helped them scoop him up and put him back.
"Chicken running around!" Owen said. He was delighted by this. "Running around EVERYWHERE!"

We did everything together today. We fed the goats some bolted collards and we played Hai Yah! or however you might spell that. We pretend-fished off the porch and I showed him how to hold a stick in his toes. He observed this and then did it too. We were monkeys with our toes. We looked at books, he washed dishes, standing on the step stool that he dragged into place all by himself, he played with his toys, we took a nap with Big Bear. I took him for a wheelbarrow ride, bump, bump, bump. We fed bread to the chickens and Cheerios too. "Here, Elvis, here!" he said, and threw the food. He can say everything. He asked for his Bop and I told him he was off fishing with Aunt Brenda in the boat.
"Nice," he said.
He asked me whose car was in the yard. He knew it wasn't one of ours. I told him it was Brenda's.
"Oh sure," he said.

He knows so much already. He is learning and retaining and he is loving and he is funny and he loved being here. When it was time to take him home, I said, "Owen, your mama misses you. It's time to go home to your house."
"No!" he said. "I stay Mer-Mer's."
Finally I got him ready to leave. He took a bag of cookies with him and a bar of soap that he wanted in another bag. He talked about taking his horse home with him but then he said sadly, "Too big."

On the way home I said, "Owen, Mer-Mer loves you so much."
"Uh-huh," he agreed. He knows.

When we got to his house, he ran in and kissed his mother, his baby brother. Lily asked me to hold Gibson and said, "He needs changing..."
She knows how much I love to change that boy. I took him into the bedroom and Owen raced in. "I help," he said. He perched on the end of the changing table, overlooking the process. He keeps a good eye on his brother. Gibson watches the mobile overhead that his Aunt May made which he loves. It has hearts and birds and bells and it fascinates him. Owen watches Gibson.

When I left, I stuck my head back in one last time to say this:

"Lily, you are such a good mother."

She is. Her house smelled of lentil soup that she was cooking and the cookies she'd made earlier. She had one son at her breast and another by her side.

I came home and tidied up. I rewashed dishes and put away toys. I called Bop at the island. I took Flopsy off the nest and put her out with the food and the water. I do this twice a day. The sun's last rays have changed from gold to silver. It is quiet here in Lloyd.

Listen- there is deep imperfection in this world and doubtless in me as well.
It was a good day filled with many moments of what I can only describe as perfection. They were so small and so prosaic that I wonder if anyone but me would even have noticed them, would have registered them as such.

I do. I did. I am.

It was a good day. It was an Owen day. And he soothed my soul and he made me laugh and you know, for the first time ever since I've been writing this blog, I honestly think about that and hope that one day when he is grown, he can come back and read this and know how much joy he gave his grandmother. How beautiful she saw him to be. How fine.

That's all.

Yours truly...Ms. Moon


  1. omg, as I was reading the beginning of this post and looking at the picture of Owen - so big - so grown!, I thought 'I wonder if Mary realizes that she is leaving the legacy of this blog to Owen?'.... because I can not think of a nicer thing than for that little boy to be grown and able to look back and see the humanity of his very special grandmother and the incredible way in which she loved him and professed it.....beautiful!!!

  2. What a wonderful day, and I thought the same thing as Liv, how big he's grown and what a legacy you are leaving him. What a testament to love and wonder and appreciation.

    I'm so glad I stopped by your blog today. I bet you would like reading Anne Lamott's latest about becoming a grandmother - Some Assembly Required. I think your blog's better though :)

  3. Mary, when you wrote that you told Lily she was a good mother, I lost it. This is such a gift, your openness with your children, your beautiful heart. Please know this. From a girl with a mother who tells her '90 pounds seems okay for someone like you," and who has only rarely, under duress, told me that I'm okay, that I'm not fucking it all up: this is such a gift. And Owen looks so much like Jonah with that short hair that always comes as shock to me, those little boy hands--you've done such a good thing, Ms. Moon, your love and courage has sown such a beautiful garden.

  4. The part about what you and Owen did today reads like it could be a picture book.

  5. I agree with everything your other reader friends have said so far, about you and the legacy you are living to leave Owen and Gibson too. The thing I like most about getting to know you through your blog is how open and real you keep things. One day you are unsettled and that is so okay and then the next Owen has made your day magical and then tomorrow who knows? And that is life. I like you Ms. Moon. I enjoy coming here to visit and find that I look forward to seeing how your day is and when you wrote a little later after having some less than terrific days, I found myself wondering if you were okay. This online community is kind of cool and your friends who leave you comments are cool too. I am feeling grateful to be let into your writing. For what it is worth (coming from someone who doesn't even have a blog), if you wrote a book, I'd eagerly stand in line to buy it and get you to sign it! Joanne

  6. What a perfect day. Better than Christmas. And I know, know, know he will read your words one day and will be so glad for them. They will fill his heart long after you are gone and he has grand babies of his own.

  7. You are never harrassed by the presence and caretaking of your sweet boy and I think that is my very favorite thing about you. I want my kids to think that I am never harrassed by them. You inspire. Children change in an alarmingly fast way. My sweet baby, who is 4, asked the other day what "awkward" meant...? Then today she went to her little playgroup and they asked who had brushed their teeth and she said she'd forgotten this morning. While retelling this story, she inquired of me, "Is that awkward?" How darling my girl is. It's probably pathetic on my part that I didn't remind her to brush her teeth.. she usually just does it eagerly with her older sisters.. but by kid #4 I'm secure enough not to be altogether humiliated and can just laugh and say yes, it is a little awkward and she should definitely brush her teeth after lunch. Sometimes the joy you take is just a choice. You either decide to grab it or not, I think.

  8. Your comments are almost as long as your posts... lol. Nothing to add for me. It sounds like a peaceful filled soul healing day.

  9. You and the O-boy are my heartwarmer for today. Loved being there with you and know he does, too, and will when he reads back through these in the future. You are a gift, to him and to us. Love you! x0 N2

  10. Precious, just sweet precious writing, about sweet precious love. Thank you for sharing all of this with us. love you

  11. Somehow, I very much doubt that he will ever need to come here and read how much you have loved him. He feels it every time you look at him.

  12. That's it Mary! Keep your eyes and your heart on those perfect moments. My guess is that they are more plentiful than any of us are able to take in.. but if we practice, we'll see them more readily and more often.

    I'm glad you had a beautiful day.

  13. I wish that I had one letter written by my father to me. Owen will cherish what you wrote.

  14. You are writing a digital history, and it will someday bring him many smiles.

  15. I loved reading this account of your day. Owen, I'm sure, will feel very blessed to read this when he is older. What a treasure of love all saved up in one space!

  16. I don't think Owen will need to read the blog to know or feel your love for him. He will have so many memories and good deep down feelings that they will be such a huge part of who he is and how he lives his life, and especially how he loves and cares for himself and others. But I bet it will be fun for him to read all about his little self. I love your writing, you know that already. But you continue to amaze and inspire me dear MM.

  17. Ms. Moon - I've been busy so I'm behind in the blog world. But even though you may not even have time to come read this late comment I have to tell you how sweet this post is. All of your posts are sweet really but this was I like especially. Between Owen stories and Flopsy (who I'm starting to like as much as Ms. Betty) with her fifteen eggs. Well this one is perfect. And I hope that poor hen does get at least of of them to hatch :) she's trying sooo hard.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.