Wednesday, February 13, 2008

A Little History

When I was in graduate school at the University of Maine, my little sister, who was in high school, lived with me for a while. There were things about this that were incredibly wonderful and, even in hindsight, I have to say almost magical. There were also things about this that weren't cool, mainly my lack of anything resembling parenting skills. I made some terrible choices and botched a lot of things but we came out of it still loving each other and we can both now remember the magical part of that time in our lives.

Yesterday, when I was writing about the doldrums I'm in and the sense that change is coming, it reminded me of something Boots and I used to do when we lived together (and if you check the comments you will see – it reminded her too). We often would get the sense that things were about to happen, something was about to change, and when we did we would sit together, sometimes on the cold back porch, more often in the kitchen at a rickety table, and we would wait. We'd just marinate in the feel of anticipation. On one particularly intense evening, my sister wrote the word WAITING in the condensation on the window beside us.

It was a time in our lives when we both felt intensely creative. It was a time that we have both, in motherhood, looked back on with pleasure, and wondered how and if we would ever feel that way again. We've gone through waves of this feeling of anticipation in the past few years (sometimes separately – sometimes together) and what appears at the end of them is more subtle and less clearly an answer than we had all those years ago. Back then it was a phone call, or the crunch of a certain set of tires on the driveway, or a song that would stop us both in our tracks. Now it's an hour to ourselves in a bookstore on some random Tuesday, or a day long argument that evaporates and leaves contentment in it's place. It's a recognition of oh, here I am. This is where I should be at this moment in time and sometimes, still, it's as simple as a song on the radio.


  1. This is beautiful...the phrase crunch of the tires gave me goosebumps because I know that sensation exactly.

  2. What a wonderful've captured those moments with your sister beautifully. You are such a good writer.