Hello dear ones,
I am on my second cup of coffee. I’ve been taking it with half & half lately, just enjoying that little creamy dollop, I suppose. I’m admiring the bright February light coming through the windows, illuminating the Pothos leaves like bits of kelly green stained glass. Already, the winter light is changing, lengthening & allowing us to linger in it, even by just a few minutes. It kisses our faces & hands. Yes, cold will snap back & forth–but oh the reprieve from the trenches!
I am sitting cross-legged & I feel like I’m an oyster, nurturing a precious pearl inside of me: my tiny baby boy. I’m finally healing from my cough & one way I know this to be true is that I’ve been singing more. On a rainy day I sang my baby “Buckets of Rain” by Bob Dylan & the jazz standard “Stormy Weather.” Yesterday, I set my phone on my belly & played him the Schoolhouse Rock song “3 is a Magic Number” & he wheeled & kicked & danced around! We will be fans of Schoolhouse Rock, I think.
Right now, my sweet mama is with her brother, my Uncle John, who is very sick. He is her only sibling. As I sit with my coffee, pearl, & prayers for both of them, I revisited one of my favorite episodes of television, certainly one of the most moving I’ve seen. It’s the penultimate episode in the final season of Better Things, a show by Pamela Adlon, about her autobiographical character Sam navigating single motherhood & life as a working actress in Los Angeles. Adlon is perhaps most well-known for voicing the inimitable Bobby Hill in King of the Hill.
In the episode “England,” Sam takes a trip back to England where her mother, Phyllis, grew up. Along with Phyllis, she is accompanied by her daughters, her brother, & his wife. Her mom’s brother Lester died the year before & she expresses longing for him. “I miss my brother. I need to talk to my brother.” Sam’s youngest daughter, Duke, has been reeling because she has recently lost her ability to see ghosts–an attribute that felt special & comforting to her. At a park by the sea on their last day in England, Duke watches her grandmother Phyllis stroll on a path ahead of her. Suddenly, she is joined by her brother Lester. They laugh & link arms. Then, they disappear behind a bend in the path. When they reappear, they are children: a little girl & a little boy, skipping & each holding the string of a red balloon. All the while, the song “Head of Roses” by one of my favorite artists, Flock of Dimes, plays. She sings, “Free of the world, head of roses. Leave me to learn love is time.” Duke watches her grandmother disappear around another bend, then emerge again alone, but clearly filled with peace.
I know at the end of someone’s life, we are often filled with many complex emotions, including regret. Have we done it all right? Have we done right by them? But whatever relationship you have with a loved one–it is sacred. It’s yours. Being human means imperfection, but I think what I am learning is that love makes us perfect. Just now at the nursing home, my mom helped feed her little brother, who has been refusing to eat, & he asked for pain medicine, which he has also been refusing. Her presence is a balm to him. To him, she will always be the little kid who stole his truck to play with it, who dressed him like a girl & called him Joan. She will always be his first friend (& foe), his only sister.
A pearl is formed when a foreign particle slips into the innermost layer of an oyster’s shell. I’ve read it’s like an oyster getting a splinter. Then, to protect the oyster from this intruder, it is covered by layers of a substance called nacre, the same iridescent substance that lines an oyster, also known as mother of pearl. So, to bring about this pearl, this beautiful shimmering thing, there has been tension, work, discomfort, growth. Yet here he is tumbling inside my womb.
The process repeats throughout our lives, I think. We get dirty or hidden, we hide. Then we shine again. We are all pearls. We begin our lives absolutely precious to someone & in that love, we remain.
Until next week,
Annie
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Head of Roses (excerpt)
I have never
Known to travel
By the compass
The names of stars
I have never
Meant to travel
Far from places
Where you are
Fear of the world
Head of roses
Sorry for yours
And for mine
Free of the world
Head of roses
Leave me to learn
Love is time
Soundtrack:
“Head of Roses” by Flock of Dimes
“3 is a Magic Number” by Schoolhouse Rock (Bob Dorough)
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