I sat at the stop sign at the end of the street.
I looked left. I looked right. I stared straight ahead.
I glanced in the rear view mirror just before bringing my foot up off the brake.
(that was all in my mind)
The truck was loaded with the essentials of what we all thought my youngest child would need while away at college. We piled in and we took, what I thought at the time, would be the longest drive. I remember when we first started off that I wanted to remember everything. I paid attention to the weather (beautiful sunny day), I paid attention to the cars lining parking lots near the road; I even made an effort to note the colors (red SUV, gray sedan). I wanted to make sure I marked this moment, this 15,556th day of my life.
What I remember most about the drive was that it was pleasant and that along the highway, as we’re passing a car that was in the lane next to ours, My son and I both, in complete unity, expelled a sound indicating we had seen the same thing. The man driving the car we passed had a distinctive nose; a Gonzo type nose with little (very little) exaggeration. My son and I. Another moment. On this 15,556th day of my life.
We arrived sooner than expected and then we worked to unload the contents of the vehicle into his dorm room. His roommate and parents were there waiting for my son (to meet. to greet) It’s was short. I was distracted. I forgot to make moments.
A quick shopping trip. I select. He carries. I suppose this was one of those take-for-granted moments.
A bite to eat. I force myself to mentally take snapshots of the event and since I forgot the camera, the only snapshots taken.
Service is slow; I don’t mind. Games are played. “Fire Up Chips!”. Moments made on this 15,556th day of my life.
A parking lot hug. He walks away, bags in hand from the quick shopping trip. I stare. Moments left unclaimed.
I sat at the stop sign at the end of the street.
I looked left. I looked right. I stared straight ahead.
Unsettled.
My journey has taken me to this day, this 15,556th day. A day to erase the dry erase board.
My whole life, what I consider to be the best part of my life, has been spent being a mom. When I was pregnant I remember the doctor telling me, “your kids are not your life. Take time for yourself” and since that day I firmly believe that its true. There was even a time I remember thinking I was living that truth. I advised my friends of this truth. “You come first!” But one failed marriage, a current unhappy marriage, a distant-at-best family, hardly any friends – no one close, and a mediocre job I kept because of its flexible schedule, its difficult to say I kept to that truth. In fact, it’s very likely I only tried to envision it’s truth because I thought it would be a behavior to model for the kids’ sake.
I remember a specific time when I felt I was living the “put yourself first” life when I was told, “you are more a mother than you are a woman”. No disagreement. I do question if there is, or should be, regret.
When the kids were a bit older, I went back to school to finish the degree I had never completed. Truth was it was to face my children as a graduate. I suppose this simply shows I saw myself as a mom through my children’s eyes.
The best part of my life has been being a mom; my greatest accomplishments are both my children. They are my deepest passion and my unconditional loves. Now I am on this 15,556th day of my life. My eldest child grown and independent. My youngest child just dropped off at college.
I am sitting at a stop sign. I’ve looked left. I’ve looked right. I’ve stared straight ahead. I’ve glanced at the side mirror.
I’m not driving.
Uncommon Tongue 