behindtheax

Several knots and a burial

Greg took the girls off to see if they can trade in Monica’s old snowboard for a skateboard for her. I am not 100% sure I want her to have a skateboard – but what can you do?
This same daughter, yesterday morning, wanted braids. As I was trying to get the comb through her thick locks, I came to the realization of just how inept I am at this mothering gig. I don’t know how I missed the fact that she hadn’t been combing her hair for what must have been the last few weeks or so. My power of observation is minimal at best. As I was trying to gently tug at this huge nest of knotted hair, I had to sigh and apologize to her for my lack of effort and for failing to notice once again the little things. The only excuse I have is that she wears this knitted cap with her hair in a ponytail and I was thinking she looked rather smart, unaware that she had abandoned the brush entirely.
Anyway, after about fifteen minutes, I gave her the braids she wanted although they still hid many knots and I asked her why she wanted her hair in this style? Her answer was that she wanted to be like the singer in the new Black Eye Peas video and she stood up, held the tips of her braids and started singing, “don’t phunk with my heart.”

After they went to school, I found the silence a little too much and so I left dishes, some bookkeeping and what not and went for a long jog. Yesterday was the first truly nice day in about two weeks and although there was a lot of traffic, and construction at almost every corner, I was enjoying my jog. Most of my music selections were sort of blending in nicely with the construction sounds. At one point this cardinal flew low over the road, carrying this long dangling earthworm. As he turned upwards just in front of me, his belly and his wings flashed pink, the colour of canned salmon. The image was loud but still very silent. (if that makes any sense) - Yesterday my sister was buried and I didn’t go home for it. A frozen ground separated her funeral and her burial by five months. I was never planning on going back for it but I never quite planned on the silence of yesterday to be that overwhelming because of it. It wasn’t quite melancholy I was feeling, maybe just feeling a little off kilter not being there. The day here was of cardinals and men with yellow hard hats tearing up bits of road, and new leaves on trees and I was having a hard time putting it together with a burial 1600 kms away. It was only when I was rounding the corner onto my street that Robert Smith helped me out a little when Pictures of You started playing.


I was suddenly remembering a lot of little things about her that I had forgotten. Some of it made me smile and I felt (feel) very fortunate to have had her in my life. A lot of who I am, I contribute to her. As I slowed to a walk I found myself looking up into the trees with all that new growth and feeling for the first time that this winter, hopefullly, is finally over.

posted by mary j. @ 4:13 PM