Perhaps if I do something annoying like number my posts, I'll get in a rhythm again. I really like the idea of having some markers of this time spent waiting for McG to arrive -- almost as I like the idea of thinking I'm disciplined enough to record this time before and afterwards with some commitment.
Much of this ambition has to do with baby books. Mine is one of my dearest possessions. It's a lens that I can see the woman my mother was when I was born, with notes lovingly taken about gifts, milestones, the arrival of teeth and increasing size. Strawberry blond hair, carrot baby food and presents of silver cups, Raggedy Ann and Beatrix Potter books. Later, after my life turned upside down, backwards and then around again, and then settled into a new routine as my stepmother Kim arrived, she added to it. I've tried to fill in the pause of those 4 years between mothers with photographs to accompany the odd sentence or three from my then-single dad, and have tucked in letters and eulogies I've collected from that time. It's an ad-hoc "recovery" of sorts, but really what else is there to say to capture that kind of abrupt loss.
On Sunday I leafed through the baby book my grandmother Helen created for Nancy. It's a marvel, especially all of the comments about the girl child's ferocious temper, desire to have her own way and how the mother marvels at her daughter's strength and athletic ability. My mother's handwriting is demonstrated as well as her grades in deportment (!) and a letter to Santa shows that early on she was a clotheshorse, a habit I've tried hard to break.
Now its time for me to start one of these records. I'm struggling with how much to record here, and how much to keep as a private gift for Baby McG. I'll probably come out somewhere in the middle, but knowing how much I've loved these biopic treasures will hopefully give me the motivation I need. I fear the fuge days ahead and more sleep disturbances, but since reading Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions years ago, I've vowed I wouldn't let these sugar days pass without appropriate awe and clarity putting words to things brings me. And here I am on the cusp of it. Keep writing McFadden...it's the least you can do.
Grace Notes:
Happy, smiley Dr. Bajaj and the kind hearted David at the appointment desk
Air-conditioned metro cars
Pam's strawberry cupcakes
easy going walks, and amenable friends who respond well to "please slow down"
Amos Lee
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