Monday, December 17, 2012

anxiety, an eight

The day Christmas exploded onto the dining room table.






Teamed with my imagination I acted a fool.
The wake up of her standing there giving the state of things.

Shea.It's nine forty eight.Taylor is not coming.We've invited two other children, Jesse's friends.Twins, she loves them.We'll have to get gifts, all the same.I'll take care of it after mother's party.You're gonna be at mother's taking photos, right?


All the words register in my brain as the quick beat of a drum. I chase the rhythm and define each one.

Mom: Shea.

Brain: That's Mom's voice. Open your eyes. 

Mom: It's nine forty eight.

Brain: You're late. Don't panic.

Mom: Taylor is not coming.

Brain: Taylor, oh no. Neither is Allie. The flu. It's Saturday. She said nine forty eight. Jesse. I'm late. Stop panicking.

Mom: We've invited two other children, Jesse's friends.

Brain: Who?

Mom: Twins, she loves them.

Brain: What?

Mom: We'll have to get gifts, all the same.

Brain: You, Shea, you will have to get gifts all the same.

Mom: I'll take care of it after mother's party.

Brain: You totally have to do this for your Mom. Look at how much she does for you.

Mom: You're gonna be at mother's party, right?

Brain: Oh shit. You're late. Start panicking now.


It's the last hit of the drum, a hard snap of do it except in all caps and bold and underlined and largest and eyes wide open until I finally say in my calmest, most expert voice, Yes. I got it.




You and me right now we'll just go ahead and say we learned something that day.
Yes, we can do it. We can have it.
It can go onto the record books as a success



if we leave the fool out of it.



Today I am grateful for the ability to look back, review notes and admit with a promise of I can do better in the form of my brain saying, Next time forget the fool.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dang girl...

Chantel said...

Love that room.....and as already said, dang girl.

Shea Goff said...

Yep. Not going down as my best performance.