It started in the wee hours of the morning, when the sounds of men’s voices on the street pulled me from sleep. Not much later, a car alarm went off outside and I was up again. At 5 a.m. one of the boys had a bloody nose, and I figured any idea of sleep was a lost cause.
“Lucid” and “cognizant” are two words I never imagined using to describe a visit with my mother.
But more and more her memory is fading, and at times she seems like a shadow of the strong, smart, creative, resourceful woman who, along with my dad, raised me.
Smack dab in the middle of math homework, my first-grader had a revelation.
“I’m seven,” he said, taking the numbers from his math lesson and transferring them to real-life. “And that’s odd.” A pause, and then, “I don’t want to be odd.”
We are living in a crazy world.
It’s a world where a single, unemployed mother of six children under the age of eight who is living with her parents (did I mention she’s unemployed?) can find a doctor willing to give her fertility treatments so she can give birth to eight more babies.
Mother Nature must have a wicked sense of humor. You’d think that she’d take it easy on her earthly equivalents – the human mothers of the world – but she does nothing of the sort. In fact, I’m beginning to believe she enjoys making us squirm by forcing us to pay homage to her tremendous powers.
Less than a decade ago, we made a habit of talking on the phone nearly every day. We’d chat for way too long about everything and nothing. She doesn’t call me at all anymore, and I have to remind myself to make sure to dial her number at least a couple times a week.
We see the world through our own unique perspective. When you are six, that perspective often contains honesty, wonder and a butchering of the language that is uncommon later in life. This column is courtesy of six-year-old, Cal, whose observations are sometimes wise beyond his years. Other times they are just plain funny.
Never underestimate the power of a single piece of paper – especially if the paper in question is a (genuine and authentic) Certificate.
My first grader came home with such a document this week. He brings papers from school just about every day.
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