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Record books…

October 17, 2010

I look like a three-toed sloth trying to keep up to her…

Kelly Chase, in Battle of the Blades Season II

Last night,

while Little Gem was falling asleep,

she asked,

Mama,

do you regret having had me???

This is a question that I saw coming,

and for which I had an easy,

direct,

and unequivocal answer for…

Today,

while we threw a Frisbee in the sand,

Little Gem wanted to know if she is good,

and if I could please get rid of her older sister…

There aren’t any parenting pamphlets to assist,

in these kinds of conversations…

You have to come up with your own material,

straight from the heart…

When I was growing up,

my mother,

on occasion,

found it appropriate,

when she was stone sober,

to make comments about how I didn’t look like anyone in the family…

And that she must have brought the wrong baby home from the hospital…

I remember the time she sat me beside my father’s younger brother,

and talked about how our legs were the same shape,

and length…

My father always emphasized,

how my sister looked so much like,

his mother’s side of the family,

and as recent as a year ago,

made one of his astute scientific observations,

that I don’t have the same feet as him,

my mother,

or my sister…

Some people talk about the elephant in the room…

I’m the kind of person who feels for the whole herd,

because I can…

And a stampede is around the corner…

Wild horses could not have dragged me away from my children,

when I was giving birth to them…

I made sure that I was in my house,

under the care of trustworthy people,

so there would be no such thing as bringing home,

the wrong baby…

Or someone taking my baby away,

for any intents,

and purposes…

If I could have,

I would have gone off,

on my own,

to do it alone,

in a cave,

or a cocoon,

with my husband waiting in the shadows,

with a sip of water,

for my parched lips…

It wasn’t so long ago,

that native women,

in our city hospitals,

were segregated in squaw rooms,

so as not to contaminate the situation for white women,

giving birth…

I don’t have the file in my hand,

but I imagine that no use was made,

of any clip boards,

to keep track,

of what happened,

to all of those red babies…

Spirits open to a thrust of grace...

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