Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Saturday, Jun. 24, 2006 @ 7:17 pm
Soft, lightness, dusty in my two hands. Barn swallow, swallowing me into his psychosis, the confusion of dark and light, static noise moves from his ruffled body into my hands and heart. I carry him from the shadows of the barn and push him into the hedgerow.
How did you do that? I don't know. I just thought that he needed help out of the barn.
One afternoon I talk with Mom over the weekend papers.
I used to think that I was born in the wrong time, just as you feel now. But then that went away. I don't feel like I'm living in the wrong age anymore, she explains.
Still, it feels wrong, and I know that if this is my largest life obstacle than I am pretty damn lucky. Still, I try to turn back the years, pulling the velvet brush across the vinyl grooves of the records, winding the film in my flea-market 1970's camera... here's Daniel and I discovering f-stops and film speeds together.
His film is developed over my lunch hour and I get to see how he sees me. He still hasn't said he loves me, but of course that's all I can see in his pictures of me. I'm not all that beautiful in them, they're not my best angles, but there's my expressions that are mine and my playful wryness is plainly evident.
I feel so full sometimes. Full to the brim of luck and love. The bucket of chives (and moss) from the cold frame, my mother's hands watering these daily for how long? Now mine. The shamrock plant from Daniel's mother, the four-leaved faces open and close with each day, a plant with tides, personification. And the impatiens from his sister. How much like her they are, salmon pink and trying so hard, but not really growing that much.
What else what else. Maybe it's your turn to find The One, Josh winks at me, one day at work. I look down to my bitten fingernails. I can't say that I have found The One because I don't want to jinx this, because I've never wanted something to work out so badly before. He told me that he'll never leave me, and I want to believe it, and I mostly do believe it except for a crazy foresight that nature will take him from me before I fall from the planet.
Oh God, what a woman I've become. Cooking dinner for him, roasting coloured peppers, soaking beans the night before, picking through the spinach in the sink 1/3 full of water... in the candlelight I see how he feels taken care of, and I ache for that feeling too, even though he touches my face and holds onto my waist in the night.
I lead Braeden and Raz into the arena for his dressage test. The bell rings, and he solemnly salutes the judges, and we head out on a course of reins and letters and circles. It's so quiet I hear his congested breathing and the creaking of the saddle. We are done and there is applause and he breaks into an enormous smile, and I discover that I've found something beyond horses here, something else that sprouts true happiness from my heart.