A Birthday Wish for E at Twelve

At 12, I thought I was ready to be 13. When I turned 13, I hated pretty much everything and wanted to be 16, when I thought I'd be free. (Of what, I'm not sure.) At 16, I wanted to be 18 so I could go to college, but at 18 and at college, I was bored and wanted . . . .

And so it goes.

Always wanting something else.

Even today: I want to be outside rather than in, lying down, elevating, icing my foot, and watching Netflix. 

At least I know that when I walk in the kitchen, "my" hummingbird, where he/she has been since I put the feeder out months ago, will still be there, always alert, always watching, always active, till evening when he/she disappears overnight, and where I'll find him/her again the next morning.

My great-niece E turns 12 today. May she, like my hummingbird, always be as much in the now as she was at 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and may both have safe travels ahead.

Another Year to Celebrate!

My first great-niece celebrates her birthday again. It's hard to believe that just eleven years ago she joined the family.

May she always love and be loved!

Happy birthday, E!

Perfect Gifts

Scary things of girlhood -- bugs, spiders, ghosts, sci-fi shows on TV -- no longer fill me with fear.  I can watch anything on television without lacing my fingers over my eyes, and books don't keep me awake at night, listening for the telltale whoosh of bat wings at my window.  Had I come home to this praying mantis in childhood, I would have frozen and waited for an adult to take care of it.  Instead, today, I threw my things on the porch, pulled out my camera, and started snapping.  I felt welcomed by a perfect gift.

Welcome, too, is the special thrill of giving someone the thing she most wants for her birthday, knowing that she will tremble and gasp at the Dementors, hold the covers tight during Black Arts, and widen her eyes at the Shreiking Shack.  Her stomach will drop and skin goosepimple.  She may even cry just a little or whimper.  But E already knows that bugs are beautiful and words live only in imagination. 

The world as it is has already brought her grandmother's death, and the world as it is imagined will also bring the loss of fictional loved ones, but E lives in and loves both worlds, perfect gifts as they are.

The Cure for What Ailed Me

Labor Day in North Carolina with my niece and her family provided the balm I long needed.  My niece E said sometime Sunday evening, "You're such an easy guest."  That's because all I wanted was time with four of my favorite people and time is what I got.

C and A scouted out spiders and big leaves and caterpillars for my camera.  O made me the best cocktails I've ever drunk and took us all to Shining Rock Wilderness where, despite the rain, we fished and swam and laughed at the Red-spotted Purple that landed again and again on Kiva, the family dog.  E showed me her van and place of business.  And we played games and watched The Gruffalo's Child and The Lorax and ate popcorn, and while E read Harry Potter to C, I read Miss Spider's Tea Party to A.

Better than vacation, Labor Day was homecoming.