The Things I Said, The Things I Didn’t
My daughter slips into the car after school and asks, “What did you do today? How was work?”
The things I said…
“I stopped for a coffee and went to Gigi’s house to help her shower. I picked out a lavender soap for her on the way there and when she smelled it she said she’d smell like a queen and wished she had a hot date planned for after her shower. Isn’t she funny? She told me the story again of the time she chickened out when the man offered her a helicopter ride. I think we should get her one for her birthday. She told me the story again of the time she went rollerskating in the attic of her parent’s boarding house and got her skates taken away. I took the long way home and drove by the ocean. I made calls, and sent emails, and sent invoices, and I thought of you when I saw this shirt at the store. It’s your favorite color. Do you like it? I cleaned off the back deck and decided we need a new patio umbrella this year and I took the trash to the bin and realized you need a new bike. I called Auntie and I made her send me pictures of the girls. I know I do that everyday! I love them so much. Then I came to get you. I love you so much.”
The things I didn’t say…
“I found new lines around my eyes when I looked in the mirror before I brought you to school and for a moment I wondered if I should buy that eye cream again and then later I remembered how much I cherish those lines while I washed Gigi’s hair and wondered if I’d have the luck to live until I was 90. While I was driving by the beach I thought about the time the astrologer told me I had four fingers of God in my chart and I was destined to make global impact and I felt a desperate sense of longing for a moment before I realized my world is you, and your brother, and Gigi, and Auntie and the girls, and my friend down the street, and our friends across the bridge, and the forest down the road and that is enough. Gigi told me today she was a tough woman who never gave anything away for free and I asked her “But doesn’t it feel good to give things away for free sometimes?” and she got really quiet for a moment and said she’d never considered that before, that she did like helping her family. I ordered a book called “Mom Rage” and wondered if I was what some might say is a “difficult woman.” And I think I am sometimes. And I think that is okay. And I hope you will be a “difficult woman” when someone assumes it will be easy to contain you. That you are something to be contained.
