I was going to defend myself against Swirl and Anjeny's account of our girlz day yesterday, but I can't seem to muster up any gumption so I'm going to put that off 'til tomorrow so I can wallow in my tender way today.
It's April 15th and we all know what that means. It's that other-dreaded-three-letter-word-that-ends-with-X-day.
It also means it's my nephew, Matthew's 10th birthday anniversary, which means his birthstone is dangling from my ears. He was born on this day, and then he slipped away 12 hours later.
Happy Birthday baby Matthew. Don't forget to send a hug from heaven to your mommy and daddy.
Ain't loss just the saddest word in the dictionary? If I ever write my own dictionary I promise to leave that word out.
(If anyone is grieving the loss of a child this site, Stepping Stones may bring you comfort.)
Today is also Jackie Robinson day and anyone who knows me knows my heart belongs to Jackie Robinson (and Jack Johnson and Jack Bauer and Jack Shepherd).
I'm vehklempt just thinking about the day I was overcoming a tired problem and I prayed to him and he took the time to answer me with a bottle of rubber cement. You have to read this post and then this post to fully understand.
Keep your eye on her racket . . . Watch your swing . . . That's it! . . . Beautiful topspin . . . Okay, now move your feet . . . You can take this girl . . . there you go, you've got her . . . NICE RALLY!
That's my girl!
My eyes got a little sweaty and my mind went back to the day I found out I was having a baby girl. My poor husband didn't know what to make of me when he found me crying on the couch in the middle of the night.
"What's wrong?" he said.
It took him a lot of coaxing to get me to blurt out that I was afeared of him being a good dad.
He didn't understand what it felt like to worry that I might be jealous of my own daughter because she would have a daddy who made her feel loved and adored.
Surprisingly I have never felt jealous when watching my husband shower my daughter with love and attention, just profound gratitude that I married a man who wasn't constantly battling his own demons.
The thing about people who battle their own demons all their life is they don't have any time and energy left to nurture the ones they love. And little girls need a lot of nurturing. They need water and sunshine so their hearts won't turn to stone.
Little girls need someone to stand behind the fence and say That's my girl!
Oh Fathers! Take heed to John Mayer and be good to your daughters!
My dad has been gone for 27 years. Maybe he stands behind the fence now and roots for me to move my feet. I don't know. Sometimes I try to imagine him sneaking out of work to be there. Sometimes I even try to feel him there. But when I turn around and search for him among the sea of souls from the universe that I know surround us and lift us and encourage us, I can't ever find him.
He's so NOT there.
Is that too much information for a dummy to share?
I know I'm not s'pose to leave you all here today without saying something hopeful like but I know he's there somewhere and I can't wait to see him again someday.
Or something compassionate like I understand he had his challenges which kept him absent yet absent.
Or something dismissive like but that's okay, that was then, this is now.
But what was then is always now. You get me?
FYI, FTR, BTW, I have forgiven him his weakensses, his trespasses and his neglect. My anger and disappointment is gone with the wind. But so is my shot at saying my heart belongs to daddy.
Now I just say my heart belongs to Jackie Robinson (and Jack Johnson and Jack Bauer and Jack Shepherd) and call it good.
(Thank goodness for all the great Jacks in the world who not only conquer their own demons, but also jump in and wrestle everyone else demon's too!)
P.S. My Crash Test Dummy tender moment theme song for the day is track 33 by Motion City Soundtrack.