It could have been me. It could have been so many of the young girls I know or my nieces or my neighbors. It could have been one of the girls from dance, cheerleading, youth group or a friend of Walker's. It could have been anyone of those young girls.
During Boy Scouts last night, I got the "on your way home stop at Walgreens and get..." text. So that I did.
I followed a young, skinny and I do mean skinny girl into the Walgreens. Funny, we both headed the same direction.
We got to the same aisle, she went to the other end. I heard her texting and it didn't even make me look up. I swung by for some PowerAde and then to the counter I went.
Strangely, she was already there. She looked up and said, "Go ahead." And her voice was shaking.
I put my $12.13 items down and paid. As I went to retrieve my bag, there it was on the counter, the EPT test. It was slightly hidden under the bag of Gummi Bears. It was like she was trying to hide them and so she picked up the off brand of Gummi Bears.
She paid with a bill and lots of change. She was shaking.
Skinny. Very skinny.
I got into my truck to answer another text from home and when I looked up, she was parked beside me, slumped over the steering wheel sobbing. Sobbing.
My heart bled for her. I wanted to get out of my car and go over there and hug her and tell her it was going to be OK.
I didn't. I wanted to but I didn't. I also wanted to text her mom and tell her to hug her daughter. But I didn't know her. I don't know her mom or her story. I just saw her fear.
Years ago, a fellow that I worked with and his wife announced they were having a baby. I asked him if he was excited and he said, "in my younger days I prayed the test was negative, so when it was okay to get a positive test, I didn't know how to respond."
I laughed and have never forgotten what he said.
Franklin says that you should call the EPT test, the "Oh shit" test. No matter what you want the result to be, it is overwhelming. You say "Oh shit." His sticks would fly off the shelves because everyone would remember the name.
I thought about how skinny she was and how it would be incredibly difficult for her to hide a pregnancy. She would no doubt look like a tree with a knot in it.
Over the past week, my friend had her first grandchild. She is still somewhere up in the clouds, we haven't seen her yet. No doubt her smile will arrive minutes before her body does. My niece (from the first husband) had her third baby after months and months of being sick and my "spiritual leader's popped out a ten pounder with no drugs. She too looked like a tree with a knot in it. Nothing but giant smiles in the photos, signs of fear or regret, just enormous smiles.
When I discovered I was pregnant, on THE 9/11, at 41 years old, I shook my head. I didn't slump over the wheel of a car and sob, but I did say, "oh shit." I was overwhelmed. Aren't we all? Isn't that why you have a ten month gestation period, just to get ready? Just to try and process it all?
A few months ago, my sweet friend had her first grandchild. My friend's daughter posted a few days after delivering, "Meet the best thing I have ever done." I have thought about that line so many times. When I was on the fence about birthing a child, my sister-in-law said to me, every woman who can, should. And there is NEVER a perfect time. How accurate.
When I got up this morning, like most people, I immediately went and did the "morning pee." I thought of that skinny, young girl. While I know nothing more about her, I am pretty sure I know what she wants the results to be and I hope she gets the results she wants.
And if she doesn't, I am sure I speak for any parent. There are a million, "am I doing the right thing", "oh shit, what do we do now", "I don't know what to do", "is this my payback", "will it ever end", "it could always be worse" and "don't tell your mother" moments.
But there are 10 million moments of laughter and pride. There are moments of "what would I do without him or her?" And equally as many, "my life would be so dull and boring without my children." I truly think that you really learn about love through children, but that is just me.
So sweet, skinny, young girl, whatever the stick said, your mother was just as scared and overwhelmed as your no doubt are this morning. And all that fear turned to love.
Oh shit, I forgot I had biscuits in the oven.
The highlight of the week, no doubt, has been the Eclipse.
I did not purchase the glasses. I looked directly at the sun, just like you were told not to do. I had to do it. I had to look. And then I grabbed the ski goggles. It was amazing.
Later that evening, on the news, they interviewed folks and asked them if they knew the "true definition of eclipse." I looked it up myself. It was the third definition that just kind of got to me. "the partial or complete interception of the light of one component of a binary star by the other."
Yep, that has been my life lately.
A few days ago, I attended a funeral. Not just any funeral but the "slap in the face funeral." You know the kind. You sit in the pew and wonder if anyone could ever stand there and say such powerful things about your strength and wisdom and love. The kind of slap in the face where you listen about how one person can rise above the greatest loss imaginable, continue to give love and commitment, with a fashion flair, and later lose their eye sight. And still, the message is all about strength and love.
After the funeral, I attended the luncheon. As I stood at the high top table, with a cocktail, I was engaged in conversations about the media world. Real life Mad Men. Beside my was "the Geek", a gentleman I really started my career with so many years ago. We both were ambitious and a little intense. We both had career goals and dreams. And now, at this high top, we were talking about retirement. Retirement. It was yesterday that we sat at the high top bar at Catellano's after our huge Pig Balloon burst in the Holiday Parade.
It was yesterday. We were all single, drove sports cars, fabulous clothes and we were on fire. The radio industry was hot and we were sizzling.
I left the next morning, early. I called my friend to tell her I had seen "the Geek" and she asked, "how did he look?"
"Old. But he was very nice to me."
"Bet he thought you looked old too." I have such great friends.
I mentally recapped the weekend, the eulogy, the flowers and how I wished I had one of those lamp chops about now, the new friends I made and the life stories I heard. And I thought about strength and rising above your biggest loses and fashion. I wish I was one of those people who could put on a burlap sack and look great. Burlap is too itchy though.
So during this drive, I mentally went through the calendar for the next few very busy weeks. School is starting, haircuts, notebooks, shoes, clothes, the whole list. Mentally I planned shopping days and my calendar. Darn, I almost forgot I needed a wedding gift
A wedding gift. I used to baby sit for this little girl, Chris. Now her daughter is getting married. I remember the one day I babysat, we baked a cake and put canned mandarin oranges on it. Yesterday, remember it like it was yesterday.
And now my friend's daughter was getting married. It took me back to the high top table with the "Geek". This new bride will write her thank you notes and the next thing she will know, she will be 56 and not know where her life went.
Sunday was Franklin's birthday. He didn't say anything but it wasn't the best one he ever had. All of us were working. Nobody knew when any of us were getting home, I didn't even get a Hallmark, I settled for a Piggly Wiggle card with the cellophane wrapper and the cheese cake assortment. Not my best birthday presentation. I asked Franklin if he felt older and he said "no, worn out." I could relate. He said "thank you" for everything but I did feel like it was truly "just another day". Life got in the way of the celebration. Kind of like a jumbo shrimp. We wanted our kids to work and earn monies, just not on our birthday's
This morning, Addie had a babysitting job. Not just any babysitting job. She was babysitting the girl of "Holwee" her first official babysitter. She was so excited. I went out to the car to see the little angels and when I told them that their mamma used to babysit Addie, they said "no, she never was a kid." Just yesterday, my kids were screaming to have Holwee come and give them chicken nuggets.
Later in the evening, for the first time in days, both of my kids ended up at the kitchen table together. One eating dinner, one dessert. Tomorrow there is a football game. One playing, one cheering.
And, it is also freshman orientation.
"Walker, just afraid I will get lost. And, I am afraid I won't have friends and the older kids will thing I am cringy."
Ok, gone were the days of "if you feel something in your shoe at recess, don't panic. It isn't a meteor, it is just mulch. The chicken sandwiches are the best. Know your lunch number or the one lunch lady gets really mad. Slide the tray, slide it. Keep your cubbie clean and Miss Judy doesn't like it when you walk to the bus, run."
Now we were in the big leagues.
"Addie, mom is right. They have never found any bones in the building so everybody gets lost but everybody finds their way. Don't panic. Don't be loud and all giggly like the other girls. Be nice. Just be yourself. But don't be loud. Be yourself. And don't worry about everyone else and don't get in people's business. And don't cause drama. Don't be loud."
And there you have it, the ingredients for high school success. Don't be loud, be yourself, be nice and don't be nosey and don't care what others think".
During the eclipse, I saw my two neighbor friends on their back porch with their glasses on, looking up at the sun. Would they be here, in 24 years for the next big eclipse? Would I? Would Franklin? Where would we live? Where would my kids be? Where did my life go? My goals? I wanted to own a radio station? Now I cannot even listen to commercial radio. I hadn't lost my baby weight yet and felt like I never accomplished what I thought I would. The eclipse and the miracle of it and the desire to see another just screwed with my head, not my eyes.
Twenty four years has zipped by, zipped. It was just yesterday that I was standing there at a high top bar celebrating the beginning of my career. Now I get AARP in the mail and think about retirement. My daughter is babysitting her first babysitter's kids, our life was too busy to celebrate a birthday, I am attending the wedding and the Mother of the Bride is a girl I used to babysit and wrapping all of this up has been the eulogy my friend gave his mother.
Knowing fashion and style is out, would my kids take love and strength from me? Would I have strength? Would I have my vision (keeping in mind I look at the sun without protective eye wear during an eclipse) and would I know my children? Would I know my husband?
I thought about this tonight folding laundry, towels.
In walks my daughter, bouncing in from cheer practice.
"How was it?"
"Good. What's for dinner? Is that what I smell? Hey mom, I am not nervous about being a freshman anymore."
"Good, why?"
"Cause it is a short time in my life. When the next eclipse comes I will be 38. I won't even remember or care about all this stuff anyway.
Mom, do you think you will be here for the next big one cause you will be like 80? 80 mom, you will be 80! (I was scowling) Mom, how cool will that be! Do you ever wonder what you will be like when you are 80?"
"YES! ALL THE TIME!"
"Mom, don't worry about it....just be yourself. And have fun doing it. Just have fun mom, don't let stuff dull your shine or dim your light, let your love shine."
"What if I can't see..?"
"Oh, so now you worry about it."
"What if I don't know you?"
"Well I will know you so what is there to worry about? You will be wearing your NIKE shorts and a t shirt with those goofy glasses, laughing. It will be fun mom."
That was my total eclipse of the heart.
Several weeks ago, I sat patiently in a doctor's office. Just me, a mom and her two sons (one about 5 and Henry was about 2) and a clock that ticked loudly. Weird.
Before I proceed, I am not judging child rearing skills. I too had and still have a son that asked a million questions a day. My button would ask trillions of questions. It is exhausting. I get it.
"Mom, if Jesus is God's son, who is God's wife and why doesn't he talk about her?" Just one example of the button's questions.
"Button, why do you ask so many questions?"
"That is how I learn." Who can argue this reasoning? I get it.
The mom sat across from me, yoga pants, messy bun, mascara, lipstick, perky boobs and a sports bra/shirt combo that made her look amazing. Almond shaped gel nails that were like moving at a rapid base on her keypad. She never looked up. Ever. Never Ever.
Sitting directly across from me was the five year old. He had a fidget spinner. Again, not judging. Wish I could shake the hand of the person who invented that contraption, sure he own an island now in the South Pacific, but really? How about a book? I just sounded like my mother.
Anyway, he played with his fidget spinner and then he looked over at me. I asked, "is that a fidget spinner?"
Now, normally, a mom, who is in an ear shot of a stranger talking to her child, would look up and over at the adult speaking to her child.
Nothing.
"Yes. It is made in China. On an assembly line. I saw an episode on the history of the assembly line on the Discovery channel. Did you know that even Hershey kisses are made on an assembly line?"
OMG. A button. And he likes chocolate. He is maybe five. I was never this smart.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have seen the assembly line in Hershey and have seen them make the kisses. I even made my own candy bar at Chocolate World. "
No eye contact from the mother. Still typing at the speed of light.
"You did? When? Did you ride in a car on stand upright and move on moving floor? "
Okay, this kid is way too smart for a five year old. I just imagine the millions of questions that he during a car ride.
I proceed to tell him where I used to live and how Hershey was part of my business and I went there all the time and yes, the street lights really are shaped like kisses.
He was staring at me, hanging on to every word and little brother Henry stood beside him, shaking his head, like he understood and you could tell he was so eager to say something so he could be a part of the conversation. Adorable. Henry was a cutie.
And then I asked the big question, "have you ever seen pretzels being made on an assembly line?" Omg. Hit pay dirt. He saw the same episode. He must peed himself right there.
"Did you see that episode? The snack episode on the assembly line?"
Nothing, nothing from the mom. Nothing.
I have three kids. So crazy, each had a thing. The "button" loved duck tape. Any kind, any color, he loved duck tape. Walker, hitches. He could spot a hitch a mile away. Loved hitches. Adeline, leashes.
This fellow was an assembly line dude.
And then my name was called. I told my two new friends goodbye. As I walked away, I heard the mom say, "Now sit down and be good or I won't take you to Twisted Spoon."
I didn't think about her until later that day. I was talking to another mother, who is young enough to be my daughter, and she was asking me for birthday party ideas for her daughter. Night time party, different, no characters. I reply, "Snipe Hunting."
Ok, most folks my age, no longer have kids with driving permits or a cabinet filled with acne wash. Most of the friends I have, have children who have children.
Anyway, "Snipe Hunting. Have a Snipe Hunting Party."
"What the hell is Snipe Hunting?"
"You never went Snipe Hunting? Have you ever heard the song I Think I Love You?" What the hell, who hasn't been snipe hunting.
I said, "You are kidding, right? You seriously haven't been snipe hunting?"
"No, never. Never heard of a Snipe. What is a snipe?"
I told her I wasn't telling her, instead, we would hunt.
The next morning, I was thinking about the SNIPE Hunt. I remember the brown paper bags like it was yesterday. Wooden spoons, pot lids, teams....running wild in the forest. Never caught one. Never even saw one. But it was fun. Christmas morning without the gifts for adults. Fun though.
And while I was walking, my thoughts went to the mom in yoga pants in the doctor's office. Never, ever, ever, did she look up. Now, her parents could be ill and she was texting a sibling, maybe she was hoping for a kidney for an ailing sibling, hell, maybe her husband was a Russian spy, or maybe she was worn out, scared about her doctor's visit, I don't know, but she never looked up. Ever. Whatever was on that keyboard had to be pretty important.
I can remember sitting with my mom in a doctor's office, quietly, eagerly waiting to pick up the Highlights Magazine. Immediately, we went to the back page. I loved searching for the objects within the picture. And we were NEVER allowed to use a pencil or pen because "It didn't belong to us". And, if someone else ruined it for us and used a pen and circled them, we were bummed.
And after the glitz of the HIGHLIGHTS MAGAZINE wore off, we played, "Find the diamond." Not the stone, the shape. It is hard to find. So we looked for it. My mom entertained us. Or herded us. And there wasn't any "be good so you can get frozen yogurt." It was more like, "do what I expect you to do so I don't break your legs." My brother was a button and just like the little guy with the fidget spinner, I know he was exhausting. He is still exhausting. But we engaged.
My dad would get so excited at the thought of a SNIPE HUNT and he would work hard to make it even more fun. No Pintrest, Google, IPHONE of Android, just him. Just searching for diamonds in an office, just simple stuff. It worked.
Books, crayons, chalk, squirt guns, hoses, and ice cubes with TANG.
Summer staples. No electronics. Just simple fun.
Recently, I reconnected with a childhood friend who lived by my mamaw and Bill. Our favorite summer days were when my mamaw pulled out old bedspreads with clothespins and we pinned them around trees and made forts. Hot as hell but awesome. We loved these forts. Especially when my mom came out with TANG flavored ice cubes in a napkin.
Walker and his little friend Ethan, came to me years ago to tell me that they didn't think Santa was "real". They googled it. Google said it was aerodynamically impossible.
I don't know what was going on in that young mom's life that day. None of my business. I got home today and was greeted by two teenagers. They got a meal out of me, helped clean up and went to their caves with their phone chargers. Occasionally, one would come out, use the bathroom and yell something at me. "I did my chores today". I wish they would still be in their CARTERS jammies, watching Discovery or Animal Planet with me. I wish they were fighting to sit in my lap for book time. I would even read that truck book (the one I have read 1billion times with the steering wheel in the center) if Walker would sit in my lap. I hope that mom realizes it that by the time she ends her text session, Henry will be driving a car. It truly goes that quickly.
And, maybe, maybe that mom was not interested in her children or their safety. Maybe I looked like a harmless old lady who missed having young kids and she wanted to make my day.
Or maybe she was exhausted from too much SNIPE HUNTING.
I thought about how skinny she was and how it would be incredibly difficult for her to hide a pregnancy. She would no doubt look like a tree with a knot in it.
