Free Write Friday, Kellie Elmore (Winter to Summer)

Get a Life. (Photo credit: the.barb)

Nurturing A Dying Plant

Nick and Kailey, 23,  live together in a dark basement apartment, in Cambridge, MA.  They met in graduate school and dated for several years. Now, they both worked from home, in technology. Kailey’s parents refers to them as “moles.” “They act as if they were in hiding, as if they were in the witness protection program,” she complains to her husband.Nick was absolutely happy living this way however, Kailey has her doubts, she missed seeing other people and having parties but she loved Nick and knew this was important to him.

The long, tough winter in Cambridge had made Kailey so weary, so depressed because even though their apartment was in the basement she missed the light that came in through their one window. She missed seeing other people, her old friends but Nick wanted her to himself and she knew that proved how much he loved her. She felt safe and happy and deeply loved.

One day in June when she heard birds chirping outside their window, and sniffed the changing air Kailey started to feel happier. She was excited and couldn’t wait to go outside yet Nick had no interest. Finally after much begging and pleading he did go with her but he didn’t seem pleased. They walked up the four steps to the outside where their eyes blinked and they used their hands to shade them from the brightness. Kailey squealed with delight and Nick just wanted to go back inside where he felt most comfortable among his computers.

Once outside, tree buds pink with anticipation were blooming, grass was sturdy and deep green, standing upright saluting the sun, people were no longer wearing their puffy down jackets. Instead they were wearing their Harvard sweatshirts, rowing on the Charles River in perfect synchronicity. Kailey looked around at the life around her, people smiling, holding cups of iced coffee in their hands, throwing frisbees across the greens and laughing with pleasure. Kailey smiled openlyas soon as she was outside, her cheeks getting pink, exposed to fresh air and the sun. She was laughing out loud at all the activity and after a while a group of kids playing frisbee asked Kailey and Nick if they wanted to join  their game. Kailey joined their game begging Nick to join but, as usual, he refused adamantly.

“Kailey, he shouted a short time later, it’s time to go home” and for the first time, in a long time, she didn’t follow him immediately. Her new friends begged her to stay awhile longer and she did. “I’ll be back later” she told Nick and turned back to her new friends, laughing, breathless and happy. She had been with Nick for a very long time. She didn’t see them getting married soon, there was something missing and she had always known that. Nick loved living in the dark world, it was there he felt most comfortable but Kailey didn’t. Once she saw the sunshine, her senses became alive, she couldn’t imagine going back to the place she had lived with Nick.  She sat herself down on the grass and started thinking about her life. Did she really still love Nick or was Nick her safety net? Was she happy living the same life that Nick lived? No, she knew that.  She felt like an old, thirsty plant that was dying, needing water and sunlight, nurturing.

It was time, she thought, time to tell Nick something she had known for a long time but had been too scared to think about much less mention it. Their relationship was more of convenience than anything else. Nick was comfortable in his own world of technology, alone with his computers, not needing people or nature around him. Kailey was different, playing frisbee wtih new friends in the sunlight, laughing and having fun had exposed her to a world that she used to live in, a world where things were light, sunny, happier and free. She sat alone for quite some time, thinking, reluctant to get up. Finally, she headed back to the house, up the hill, her head down. Her world had changed, now she needed to tell Nick that she was not complete just living in the dark. She wanted more, more for herself, more fun in her life, more brightness. She was going to try to say goodbye to darkness, and head slowly to the light.

Cleaning From The Inside Out

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Image by atsukosmith via Flickr

It started out as a summer closet-cleaning project, as it does every year.  What differentiates this year from the last seven is that I am actually doing it. I started cleaning out our closet several days ago and I haven’t stopped.  Among some if the items found are: bags, shoes, books, sweaters, children’s toys, my own stuffed animals. The closet is very crowded with boxes upon boxes of paper and old clothing and photographs, about fifty books, drivel in adolescence journals and every memento since I was a teenager.

I bought new bright aqua hangers at Target feeling confident and ambitious. Only minutes after my mug of espresso I was ready to start. I cleaned for hours as music blared from my computer:  The Beatles and Glee, America and Bruce Springsteen,  I revisited Natalie Merchant, The Beach Boys and songs from Grey’s Anatomy.  I sang as loud as possible, off-key.  I found cookbooks, a dozen notebooks, and old, scratched CD’s. I made a pile to give away perfectly fine clothing that fit my far younger self. Clothes, past their expiration date by twenty years, as I looked down at my larger body. I sighed as I stuffed them into black garbage bags shaking my guilty, downtrodden head. I tried to soothe myself by saying they will go to people who have nothing, but I don’t deep down, forgive my slovenly self.

I was enjoying putting some order into chaos carrying out box after box of stuff I hadn’t seen or used in years. It felt really good to finally attack at least ten to twenty years worth of stuff. That is, until I found “Baby.”Baby was my son’s love object when he was very little. I remember we flew to Oregon for a vacation with our six month year old son, the Buddha Child.  This was a boy who fell asleep in a second. One day, while we were in Oregon we put him in his car seat and he cried and wouldn’t be soothed. The child who fell asleep immediately in any car ride fussed and could not sleep and we had no idea why. As new parents do, we thought ear infection? He looked fine albeit cranky but he didn’t look sick.

All of a sudden as if  I had just discovered the new 500 million dollar invention, an idea popped into my head? Baby?  I made my husband pull off the side of the road and he searched for Baby; Baby was found in the trunk.  Baby was given to our son as we watched in wonder. He clutched Baby in one hand, my son’s thumb slid smoothly in his mouth and he fell asleep immediately. We hadn’t known Baby was that important until that moment. When Baby needed surgery, he was not allowed to be fixed by my mother-in-law, an expert seamstress. Only I was allowed to fix Baby; to me, it was a proud moment.

When I found Original Baby and Substitute Baby today scrunched in the back of my closet I gasped and exclaimed “Baby!!” Then I burst into tears. I thought I had worked through the anticipated separation from my first-born son going to college in three and a half weeks, apparently I wasn’t done. Holding Baby in my arms, clutched to my heart, I sobbed.

When you clean out old things, you find emotional reminders of the past. I found letters from my dad who died ten years ago, it makes you more aware of what you are missing; it brings up sadness, longing, for things that will never again be the same.

I’ve decided to put away all the not-so-gentle reminders of my children’s younger lives into boxes.  It’s time. My  father’s shirt and his letters will get another box and it will also live in the basement. I don’t want to bump into Baby or Dolly or the cards that they made for me and cry. As my son and daughter move on, so must I.

The sad part of seeing Baby was that I thought, I have only one more year with my daughter staying home. My life as being their mother will never be the same.  What on earth am I going to do now?  Sobbing answered that question quickly and then I normalized. I will always be their mother, I will always be my father’s little girl but relationships shift and change. It was time for all of us, including Baby and his friends, to move to a different place. When my son and daughter want to look for memories of their past they will know where to look and that’s how it should be. Life moves on and I with it. Starting from the inside, then moving out.

The Whiffleball Champ

Kids grow up so quickly these days, one minute you are holding their hand at the bus stop for the first day of kindergarten and the next, it seems, you are handing over the keys to your car.  They are connected to you, and they will always need you but it changes as they get older. It’s a transition, for everyone. I never thought that it was possible but you do get used to your children/young adults separating from you. You have no choice; it happens quite naturally; although, believe me, I still sing “Sunrise, Sunset” at every opportunity.

The quick-dash of our 17-year-old son flying out the door so he can play whiffleball with his best friends, a game they have played for many years.  They built and designed the playing field with lighting that could attract a Madison Square Garden concert, with bases that the Yankees would be proud to play in. The initiative to do it on their own, drive to Home Depot a number of times, to thoughtfully design and build it; that made it special; that made it their own and they will always have that, in later years, they will have their memories.

They talk these days are about colleges, SAT’s and AP tests and how school is “technically over” with the exception of finals. The summer brings a much-needed refuge from exams and adult decisions and the dreaded common essay. These group of friends will be entering their Senior year of High School in the fall and things will proceed full speed ahead from then on, and yes, it will be different. The posse will be going in all different directions for college but I have no doubt that they will always be friends.

Topics around our house include talk of the Volunteer Ambulance Corporation and how our son felt the rush of adrenaline when he was able to do compressions on a sick adult man.  The fact that his EMT complimented him on his technique was, to him, the highest compliment ever and he was ecstatic. “If I ever had any doubts about Medical School, I don’t now, wow, what an adrenaline rush!!!.”

That young, empathic,  compassionate boy that he was is now grown and channeling his inner gifts to want to help others. He has his goals set on being an ER doctor or a surgeon; I tell him he has plenty of time to decide.   He may not be the best athlete on the whiffleball team, he may even be one of the worst players, I don’t really know but it doesn’t matter to me.

He calls, after his game, to ask if I want anything from the ice cream store. He walks in, fifteen minutes later,  dusty and tired and grinning, bearing a scoop of vanilla cake batter ice cream for me, his mom, with rainbow sprinkles.  In my eyes, he is, one true champion.