Have You Missed Me?

Most days, I'm an active participant in my life. I like to think that everything I do is an artfully choreographed series of deliberate steps and movements. If I'm honest, with you and myself, it's mostly a series of reactive movements that keep me upright and those I love relatively unharmed. I know there was a day, once in my distant past, that my life only consisted of what my senses detected in that moment. My mom was nearby in the kitchen cooking something with green peppers, my throat felt scratchy, I heard my dad playing guitar, my gum was stale. Ten minutes later, I'm sure my reality changed dramatically.

Somewhere along the line, I was conditioned to periodically check the road ahead to make sure I was headed in the right direction. "Spend time with friends but start thinking about college." "The family is going to visit your great-grandfather. We understand if you want to sit this one out, but you should keep in mind that he may not be around for much longer." I was enjoying life but learning that the concept of "tomorrow" meant more than an opportunity to do something else...it also meant reaping what was sewn today.

As a mom, I find that I almost always keep my gaze exclusively fixed on the horizon. Not only do I seem to always look ahead, I'm almost craning my neck and contorting my body to see as far down the road as I possibly can..almost believing that I may be able to map out and plan for any obstacle lying ahead.

Recently, I spent several hours (literally, not exaggerating for dramatic effect) sitting at the computer, my cell phone stuck to my ear, typing on the keyboard with one hand in a desperate attempt to diagnose and correct a serious problem with our system. As my frustration increased and I was struggling to hear the tech support guy and exercise restraint as he seemed to have an inability to understand that I HAVE ALREADY POWERED OFF THE F-ING TOWER, WAITED FOR A FEW MINUTES, AND TURNED IT BACK ON and YES, I KNOW WHAT ETHERNET MEANS AND NO IT'S NOT F-ING WORKING, I heard a little voice behind me tell me that she lost her second tooth. What I did next is despicable. I glanced in her direction, gave her some bullshit "Oh, awesome!" response, and literally shooed her away as if she was some annoying fly that kept landing on my fruit salad.

I caught my own mistake about twenty minutes later. In my shame and guilt, I turned toward my family and took it all in. My eyes and forehead were throbbing from staring at the monitor for far too long, the smell of garlic was still lingering in the air from dinner a few hours earlier, the girls were engaged in their typical pattern of giggle, fight, whine, repeat, Mike was fixing the pillows on the couch, and my gum was stale.

I may have many more tomorrows for opportunities and very well may be in debt to fate considering the mistakes I've made over the years. But that will be my life then. My life now is this moment...
now this one...
now this one.

None of my college savings plans, papers to be written, credit scores, or endless lists of things to be done mean anything to me without the life that is in front of me now.

I watch my youngest child - she is a giant...in her words, voice, wit, movements, courage, and her emotions. She is a giant in every way, that is, except for her size. She literally lives out loud. She has always seemed to know just how everyone around her is feeling at any given moment and cried about E.T. before she was three. She is actually pretty good at doing her own hair, and I'm pretty sure she fantasizes about being on stage. She befriended a boy in her class with ADHD that has trouble making friends because of his impulsivity and activity level. She, herself, is constantly in motion.

My older daughter is tall and graceful, quiet and demure...until she knows you for longer than a day. She has a twisted and smart sense of humor not often seen in a child her age. She is thoughtful. When she gets out of bed in the morning, she still tucks in her Curious George doll before leaving room for the day. She loathes going to bed at night and waking in the morning. She captures the ants that try to sneak in through the doorway and carefully places them in the spiderweb in the corner by the back door...then waits, patiently, for the spider to find his dinner. She gave into the Jonas Brothers craze but loves the White Stripes. She also has this incredible stifled, quivering smile when I catch her eye while she's sitting among her friends.

I know these things about my girls because I was watching as they happened.

This is my reality at this moment...
and the next...
and the next....
and the next.