Meri's Musings

Hands.

I would never surf. I almost drowned when I was five. I remember the feeling of being pinned underwater, unable to surface, my lungs feeling on fire. I learned to swim -- sort of -- but my face never goes in the water. I take showers. I'd never try a flotation tank. And the idea of wiping out, of having a huge wave crash down on my body. . . .  well, that's too much to handle. I can watch, however, as someone else dances with waves. I just know it'll never be me. Not in this lifetime.

I always thought that I was more a cat person than a dog person. Until this little Havanese bundle of joy came into my life. When I brought her home, she weighed 2.5 pounds. Now, at four, she weighs about 14 pounds. She's extravagant and exuberant in love-giving. She's extremely talkative (she carries on growl conversations with a toy in her mouth). She flattens herself down so she can lie under the leather ottoman. She prefers to sleep perched on a pile of pillows. She's given up trying to chase the rabbits in the yard because she knows they'll always outrun her. She was clueless enough to try to chase a doe  out of our yard (I had to intervene because the doe was having none of it). She sleeps on her back,  paws outstretched, confident that she's always safe and loved. And she is.

This kid makes me laugh. From his exuberance to his crazy outfit choices he's one of a kind. I love it when he says, "I want to ask you a question" and then makes a statement. He hasn't quite got the questioning part down. He's a master of prolonging the going-to-sleep routine when his mom and dad are out for the evening. His dad never did that. His dad was perfect. Or maybe my memory is failing.

As I approach yet another birthday, I'm celebrating the younger me. Without her, I wouldn't have grown into the woman I am today. Pensive. Thoughtful. Creative. Possessed of hard-earned wisdom. and blessed with the pixie dust of mischief.

Real life. It's all real life. . .  the sublime and the ridiculous, the tragedy and the triumph. And it all goes by so quickly. If we're lucky, we take the time to notice all those little moments - the laughter the irritation the sweet smell of a newborn the papery skin of a mother now in her 80s the reminiscences of a father with death fast approaching the smell of a new car the feeling of tears welling up when we're touched by something job losses and job gains and we give thanks for having the opportunity to be an embodied spiritual being.

Longing to know one more time in my life the feeling of falling smack dab in love and not regretting it for a nanosecond.  Here's to dreams. No matter how unlikely they seem.