On last day of Spring

My watch buzzes gently next to my pillow. It’s 6:45 am. I’ve been so tired lately. Conrad gets up to take the dog for a short morning walk.

Rufus is as excited as ever, waiting at the bottom of our loft stairs. Barely reaching to the third step, he kisses my feet.

Jackie breaths deeply in her fort bed. She is content, she is warm and soft and lovely to watch in her silent morning state.

Mom and dad are in the other room, under the same roof. We’ve taken them to our usual places, we had them tagalong on our mundane rides. Picking up Jackie from school, coffee breaks, shopping, hiking like there is no tomorrow. We cook and play cards. We walk the dog, we watched a movie last night. Life is meant to be lived, savored in its simplicity.

I’ve been absent minded for a bit. I forget how long. My mind is buzzing with planning and imminent bureaucracy. The menu, the car registration, the end of kindergarten. Friends and upcoming trips, summer camps, carpooling, extended family outings, weddings and cross country driving.

I’m easily and uncharacteristically irritable, I’m direct and bossy with kids and my parents.

I’m depressed.

Breaking the cycle.

The moment I can see clearly, I know how to address my shortcomings. Stopping to breath and look at life objectively. That sounds sensible and reasonable.

Except it doesn’t stick. Something else throws me for a loop.

As I have verbalized my limitations, my boundaries, I noticed a shift in the attentiveness and cooperation of those near me. Though I still resent having to pick up after my dog, my daughter, my husband. I wish they didn’t depend on me to keep the wheels of orderly life spinning.

It’s ten pm now. It’s dark. It’s quiet. We’ve wrapped up a very busy day.

This evening I shared my book at the adoption day. I spoke freely and short. I connected with friends, I breezed through the overflowing of pride and joy of all adoptive parents. I soaked it all up. There is little I can say to accurately describe the delight and gratitude that these adoptive families have in common.

Jackie agreed to come up on stage with me. I did not expect she would. But I loved her company. She was shy, but present.
After a few words, I read from my book, much like we do at home. A teaser. People connected because they know and feel the story first hand. It’s our collective story of Adoption, a journey of self discovery for adopted kids and their parents.

A life of contrasts. Of highs and lows, of joy and darkness. Excitement and exhaustion. The world at large is depressing to me. And as one might think that raising a child is a priority in itself, as we prepare for a lifetime of confusion, of shifting morals, selfishness and greed, I sense a calling to raise the next generation amidst this nonsensical world, with character, courage and clarity, with powerful and purposeful kindness.

Meanwhile, a good night sleep is in order.

I may be back in business. I’ve longed to write again.