Sunday, December 30, 2012

Let Us All Be Well

I had a great time with the boys this afternoon. I am blown away by Owen and his pretending. His imagination is a beautiful thing and we went camping and each had our own tents but we visited each other and built fires and cooked hot dogs and eggs and made hot chocolate and tea and coffee and he went to the store and got us cookies and we slept and told each other our dreams. 
He told me that a Blob attacked him and I told him that I rode a dream-horse and then we both went back to sleep so that he, too, could dream about riding a horse.
We went to Wakulla Springs and put on sun screen and rode the jungle boat cruise and we remembered back when we really did do that. "It rained," he said. "Yes. And you played in the puddles with the children."
He remembers.
He asked me if I had found this baby on the desert and if he had been cold and shivery and I said that yes, I had, but that he would be our baby now. He allowed as to how this was a good thing and he made that baby laugh.

He makes me laugh and he hugs me and says, "You the best Mer Mer," and I tell him he's the best boy. And Gibson, Buddha Boy, smiles and beams and dances. He is a dancing one, that boy. When I got to the house, Lily was holding him and when he saw me, he began to rock in her arms and smiled like the sun.
Well. You know.
We love each other. Fiercely.

And now Hank is here and he's in my shower which has the new shower head in it that Mr. Moon got me for Christmas which makes being in there like standing in a rain forest and I stay in the shower too long now, it's almost ridiculous, it's so lovely. And hopefully, he's steaming some of this cold out of him and I've fed him chicken and dumplings which is mostly chicken stew and he's taking Mucinex or whatever that stuff is and hopefully with a little bit of tending, he'll get better.

Mr. Moon is grinding deer meat into hamburger and the dogs are almost beside themselves with the wanting of it. They go crazy when deer meat is being processed or cooked. They know the difference between it and what we buy at the store. There is no doubt about that. And someone, I can't remember who- oh, I think it was May, was telling me that her cat knows the difference between our eggs and store eggs. We swear that our old boxer, Pearl, lived longer than any other boxer in the history of the universe because Mr. Moon fed her deer liver and the same can be said for our old cat, Bob, too, who lived years past his time and he'd had strokes and god knows what all but then he ate pounds of deer liver and recovered and was a mean old bitchy cat for years and we loved him. That old blind boy. Our bitchy Bob.

It's cozy inside and I can't believe it's December 30th and I haven't taken down the Christmas crap but I plan on doing that tomorrow. And cleaning out the closets in the hallway upstairs. That is my one true goal this next week- to clean out those closets.

I talked to a woman we know at Kool Beanz last night and we discussed Christmas and it started out all regular and stuff, "Oh yeah, it was a good Christmas. And yours?" Etc. And then I said, "Really? I hate Christmas," and she said, "I do too!" and I said, "I think everyone does, really."
"We're not big on Jesus in our family," she said.
"Us either," I told her.
"Jesus is not the reason for our season," she said and we both cracked up and I'm still laughing at that.

But this year I haven't minded the decorations so much. It's been all right. There have been really beautiful moments and if nothing else, it created a space for us as a family to all get together as we do and break bread and be happy. That is enough reason to not hate it.

That's how Owen rearranged the Nativity on Friday which I think is so funny and precious and perfectly three-year-oldish. The animals are the ones being worshipped or, as Vergil pointed out, they are probably the most interesting parts of the whole thing to him. I sort of want to leave it up forever to let him move the figures about as he pleases but I won't. I'll put it back in its box and store it upstairs and maybe bring it down again next year and he'll be four and Gibson will be one and almost-two and what a team they'll be then. I can't even imagine and I don't want to. I just want to let it all happen as it happens and it will whether I want it to or not.

There. That's what I'm thinking tonight on the eve of the eve of the first day of the new year which I have no plans for except for cleaning out those closets. I'm still too busy with 2012 to worry about greeting 2013. I just want my boy to be better, my family safe and healthy.

I wish the same for all of you. Be warm, be safe, be healthy. Happiness will fall where it may and let us catch it when it does.

Good dreams. And know that if a Blob attacks, Superman is at the ready to take care of business. "You're going down!" he told me he said to the Blob.

And Gibson will smile on us all throughout.

We are blessed. We are so very, very blessed.


  1. Amen. Those boys are so wonderful.

    Your care sounds like the best possible thing for Hank.

  2. preach it, sister moon, preach it!


  3. "Be warm, be safe, be healthy. Happiness will fall where it may and let us catch it when it does."

    Amen. And isn't this all that's really important, when it comes right down to it??

  4. I like the idea of the animals being worshiped. It makes a lot of sense to me.

  5. Stephanie- I think that Hank is already feeling better.

    Mama D- In my world, yes.

    Syd- Three year olds know where it's at. Uh-huh.

  6. I have missed you while I was away. The love and imaginations of young children are both miracles.

    Thank Owen for the nativity scene, it made my Season. And thank Gibson for smiles. And thank you just because you're you.


  7. I love the animal-centric nativity. Love it!

    Isn't it weird that it's New Year's Eve already? It's not even on my radar. We're doing so much running around and visiting that I barely know what day it is!

  8. I am glad to hear that Hank is feeling better. The colds my own kids got this year were the worst in a long time. Almost as bad as when my daughter was a newborn and got R.S.V. and ended up in the hospital.

    Just when I was convinced I hated Christmas this year I got to see my cousins and my aunts and uncle. My aunts who I love to the ends of the earth. My cousins who make me remember our times we spent as children being crazy doing kid things. My uncle. Always the same, never changing and making me margaritas. It was good.

  9. The biggest of blessings about being a grandmother is knowing not to wish it away faster. Love every moment!


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.