Monday, November 28, 2011
I worship the dirt.
Look at this girl.
Sometimes I simply can't believe how pretty she is. And how big.
Things have been getting easier around here, the way they do when your babies start turning into people. When you're not needed every moment of every day. Sometimes, when Scouty and Louise are playing together, I will suddenly realize that nobody is paying any attention to me.
I can quietly tip toe away and read a book or fold some laundry, and the world feels tiny and peaceful and everything is full of color.
We have this wall in our house.
It is actually the wall behind the computer screen. I look at it while I'm searching for the right words. It sort of feels like everything important to me is pictured here.
My giant glasses from my 5th grade school picture and Baby Cheesy, the one single time she wore that dress. She hated the smarmy photographer and so did I.
Daddy is love and my family from when we were kids.
Or maybe I am tiny and the world is huge, and I am full of big things. I am full of a love so good and honest and perfect that I break apart and I'm a million flickering shards and everything is frozen.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love my family and this makes me a god. I worship the sun for shining on the beautiful little faces of my girls. I worship the air for filling their slippery, powerful little lungs. I worship the dirt.
Sometimes it seems like I don't have everything I need, but really, I just want things. I've seen the face of god. I know what it's like to have your heart outgrow your ribs. I know what it feels like when it stops up your throat and shines out of your eyes. Sometimes washing the dishes feels like an outrage, when we're full of so much love. I want to be able to feel what I have, all the time.