June 18, 2013

• Tomorrow Is a Journey All Its Own

  

  Yesterday.

  It held little, but really all this knobby-kneed varmint could handle.

  I harvested enough of the tomatoes, gypsy peppers and onion for the first bit of salsa this season.  Something about that first taste, that fresh upon tongue, nothing like it.  

  I also put together a pot of chicken and noodles.  Can’t even remember the last time.  Despite the fact that I cannot eat solid foods, I indulged.  With abandon.  Wanting each spoonful to not be the last, knowing the ending would not be as glorious as this beginning.  

  And danged if I didn’t take a couple bites of that lemon cake. 

  I embraced rebellion and danced wildly. 

  Dipped it like a drunken saloon girl.

  Buffalo Girls is playing in the background.
  Calamity has just handed her baby Janie to the strangers who will raise her, and turns to walk away, broken.

  Those words from this morning come flying back to me.
  Those words my daughter scripted from soul.
  Those words that found their way to the deepest part of me.

  We keep each other in sight as long as possible until the current happens to sweep us one way or another.

  She knows.
  She knows her momma will hand her children to this strange and wild frontier, and turn and walk away, broken.

  The desert, she continues to call, tempting me to believe there is healing in her sand.

  I want to believe.

  The what ifs, they can cause a worn out cowgirl to get lost. 

  What if we get out there and nothing changes,
  and we’ve given up these lightly, scattered nests?

  He says, then we’ll move back. nothing is permanent.

  He surprises me with his obliging spirit, his learned willingness to let our life currents move us on down the gully, even when we land in a dried up wash in the desert.

  He wears this well.  Whatever this beautiful thing is, I see glimpses of it in his children.  I know they will more than survive their own life currents, so I can release them. 

  Today anyway.

  

  If you want to read all of my daughter’s words and the beautiful things she says about me,
  I took them from her post Heart:Riverbend.

  I forgot I wanted to tell you I am reading posts, just not leaving a lot of comments because it requires me to sit up.  I am using my energy for some of the things around here.  I thank you beautiful varmints for continuing to understand and not hold me to a standard I could never manage these days.  I think I may just use smileys for awhile, so you will know I have been there.

  • 4:58 pm
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