Saturday, May 7, 2011

Day one thousand two hundred and twenty one . . . Done.

These feelings don't come as often as I'd like but I'm not about to complain.

They're just like a dip in the road--the kind that give you that little lift and a whoosh in your belly. And when it happens I have to kind of ride it out and egg it on. But I know it'll be gone in a matter of minutes and then I have to wait again . . . and then it will sneak up on me and get me and make me smile.

It's the feeling of done.

I'm not talking big deal done like graduating from school or landing a business deal, though I'm sure that might precipitate it, too. No, what I'm talking about comes from a mundane accomplishment like washing a sink full of dishes (no dishwasher for me. Never did like the way they made the dishes feel or smell) and then standing back and looking around and seeing the difference I made in my world.


Or washing all the laundry and folding it and putting it away where it goes. And then looking around the room and not being able to see one sock, one shirt, one pair of pants, or even one pajama bottom.


And these states of being done don't last long. For tonight there will happily be a shirt and pants on the chair in our bedroom, socks on the floor and a jacket hanging on the door. These are signs of life. These are demarcations of civilized rituals. But for the few minutes directly after and all the time leading up to the moment where this temporary solace is ushered out the door it makes me happy.

It just happened to me moments ago and like a picture of a snowflake I want to have an almost impossible record of it here in these few words.

May is a big month for me. Mother's Day is tomorrow, my birthday is on Monday, my dearly departed mom's birthday is on the 14th. I have so much joy associated with the month of May. It is such a beautiful thirty-one days of the year and I am fortunate that my losses have not tipped the bottle over and removed the solution that allows me to enjoy it fully in a healthy manner.

I haven't ever thought about it until just now but I suppose the word "May", itself, (capitalized or not) is a tentative assemblage of three letters. I'll always be happy that may turned to will.

And while these personal celebrations punctuate the beginning and middle of the month, Memorial Day caps it off like an unexpected parade cannon shaking the ground and swinging all heads its way. Though it's true meaning must sheepishly be reminded in every local newspaper so one is made aware--again--at the reverence the day ought to hold it's mainly just a time to have fun.

We gather family and friends together around the picnic tables sturdy and stoic like heavy, dark, park parade floats brimming with disposable plates, plastic cutlery and sticky paper cups ridiculously defying gravity as they teeter back and forth in the wind. Someone's always running for something from the picnic table. Always.

And the air hangs heavy with the vaguely harmful aroma of lighter fluid and charcoal, burnt hot dogs and chicken skin, cigar smoke and bubbles. The unmistakable smell of baked potatoes on the grill always reminds me of my grandfather who was undoubtedly the grill master of the family. The flies, the pollen, the dust, dirt, petals, wrappers, bags, and Sunday circulars all whirl about during this time of year. It is a truly beautiful thing.

And I'm sitting here outside after putting out enough plastic, metal and glass furniture to feel like I can relax. I found the sweet spot where my wi-fi works and I popped a flavored seltzer from a local soda producer.


May's just begun and I have such great expectations. This winter was a bruiser for almost everyone I know on the east coast and a few on the west. It's time to defrost and it's time to stretch. The birds overhead somehow seem to know I'm thinking about them, too, as they caw and cackle back and forth. The clouds can't make up their mind whether or not to give up the buckets of water they're stockpiling. They have so far to go some days that I can't imagine they don't get thirsty. And the buds on the trees peek through to the outside world just a little more than they did even an hour ago.

It's finally here.

Spring is finally, actually here.

And I'm about to publish this blog to the ether above.

One little click and the thoughts I've assembled over the last hour and change will be for all the world to see.

It's not a big deal.

It's not my best stuff.

It probably doesn't make sense to too many people other than me.

But at least I know for certain.

At least it's almost through.

And one more word that sums it all up.

One word after these five here:


Thanks so much for reading.


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