Tuesday, June 30, 2009
SMALL KINDNESSES
1. Sausages
Last night I was hungry. I'm on this high-protein/low-carb diet, so basically my options are meat or cheese. While cooking up a pan of breakfast sausages, I had this memory from my childhood of my mother doing the same thing. My father loved sausages - any kind, but especially pork breakfast sausages. My mother spent a lot of time feeding my father, despite everything. And I had this image of her standing patiently by the stove, turning over the links little by little so that they would brown evenly on all sides. Given that sausages are round, and that they wiggle and jump in the pan, this endeavor takes constant attention for a good 20 minutes. And as I turned my own sausages last night, I imagined my mother, spatula in hand, hovering over the pan, gently coaxing each pork finger toward a perfect state of brownness, so that my father could relish every bite.
2. Gladys
Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of our return to San Francisco after our London sojourn. I marked the occasion by making a phonecall I've been avoiding for months. I called the once familiar world of 020 and spoke to Pat, the daughter of Gladys, the 85-year old woman who lived in the flat below our in Flanders Mansions. Visiting Gladys and playing with trucks in her peeling yellow kitchen is one of the few memories my son still has of his London home. Gladys was always happy to see us, always happy for small kindnesses like a 1/2 pint of strawberries we couldn't use, or the offer to pick up a few things from the shops when her supplies were low. Gladys lived on the same road for 65 years, in the same town all her life. She knew much about the details of the place - how the Tube workers used to plant wild-flowers on the berm below the tracks, the ages of the postman's children, how hot the summers used to be. When we knew her, she had not left her house in over 2 years. And so her world was 6 rooms - 4 of them shut in winter - and the views out the front and back windows. Everyday she would walk down the passage to see what was happening on the road - who was going to school, who was late for work, what cars were parked where. Gladys was important to me, and yet I visited her less often that I meant to. In the first 6 months after we returned to SF, I only wrote her once - a Christmas card with a pack of chocolates and a GG Bridge magnet to join the collection of birds on her fridge. She passed in February - thankfully in the hospital and not alone in her flat as she feared she would. I know her life was better for knowing us, and ours for knowing her. And yet, I still feel the weight of all the moments I could have spent with her balled up like a knot in my chest.
3. Monster
My son has been walking around terrified for the last week. He keeps remembering this dream he had. In it, he sees a monster, and while he watches, the monster's body breaks apart and his head begins to bounce toward my son. It never reaches him, because he always wakes up. But the terror of the nights has now invaded the daytimes to the point where Gman won't even go down the hall to his room to get dressed at 8am. He's been saying 50 times a day "I'm scared. I'm so scared of my dream." We've talked about the difference between real and pretend. We've discussed strategies for distracting himself, for redirecting his imagination. But the fear remains. And it is really getting in the way of our daily operations - he is literally hanging onto my leg, following me from room to room. And after days of this, I find myself deeply impatient with him. "Come on!" I think, "Snap out of it!" Even though I remember how frightened I was of pictures in my head when I was a child. Even though I recognize that the monster must represent some deeper and more inexpressible fear about a part of his life he is afraid might break or dissolve before his eyes. It seems that he needs constant little doses of love and kindness to get through the day now. And honestly, who doesn't.
Be well.
photo by Roman Delamare
Labels: Community Muses, Family Life, Mysteries
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woman! I have missed your ideas. Any way I can convince you to double-post your blog at your facebook profile? I'd love to keep better informed about the YoungLucks... :) xoxo desiree
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