Once upon a time ...
(Part of the "Catch-up Collection." Originally a Facebook post honoring the Nov. 30 birthday of my son and daughter-in-law.)
I hardly think the end of November should mark the end of giving thanks. So, tonight ... I am thankful for fairy tales. Well, more like events that have the elements to be fairy tales, but turn out to be of the gritty goodness that makes them reality.
Once upon a time - 31 years ago actually - two fair maids lived in two fair towns not too far away. Little did they know that their routes on the map of Life had already wound around, over, and through one another and would eventually crash nicely into one place.
 |
| Me & the Kylester |
On that fateful day 31 years ago they both visited hospitals, prepared to give birth to their firstborn. One fair maid in a lovely Catholic hospital had been quite busy trying to show nurses, doctors, and nuns that labor didn't hurt THAT much. But, alas, she had greatly underestimated the event, and had unfortunately delivered some rather unfortunate language (there may have been a colorful, highly-descriptive version of the word "penguin" mentioned at some point). Therefore when her doctor inquired as to whether she would like to be blissfully unconscious for the birth, she assumed advancement in the process would mean advancement in discomfort and therefore said YES.
Funny enough, when the point came that her wee one was about to enter the world and she felt the urge to push, the point where folks were wheeling her bed swiftly through the hall to a delivery room, the point where she sat up and gripped the rails like a knight gripping a lance while charging on his valiant steed toward glory - well, at that point she thought it didn't feel so bad at all. In fact she felt somewhat giddy. However, the medical folk didn't seem to notice and when they pushed the gas mask toward her face she tried to refuse and one yelled "She's fighting it!" The fair maid was saying "Nooooo I wanna do thiiiiiii....." as the mask was firmly placed over her nose and mouth and all her hollering did was serve to make her breathe in the magic air more quickly and, alas, she succumbed to the ether.
When she awoke it was in a white room where she imagined fluffy clouds and the song of angels. She knew she wasn't dead because she could hear her mother's signature footsteps in the hallway, and her mother's voice asking in which room she could find her daughter. (Truth is I was under the heavy influence of drugs and had been hollering for my mommy and could be heard in the waiting room. Mom came running. Likely to shut me up.) With her mother at her side, the fair maid asked for her baby, if he had his father's feet, and if she could please have a Big Mac. Starving, she was.
Later, after all the relatives and friends had left for the evening, she held her little bundle and marveled at his pinkness, effusive in her love of his pointy head (forceps), perfect fingers, perfect mouth, downy blonde hair, and even his huge feet. She knew he would need them to journey through life. As she stared at his face his eyes opened and she had a FLASH moment where she thought she could see into his soul (probably still the drugs) and saw it was a good soul and could see moments of his life like slow-moving film. Smiling, cooing, crawling, sitting, walking, laughing .. first days of school, riding a bike, holding a basketball, giving his heart to a girl, marrying a girl, and holding a bundle of his own.
Good drugs.
Little did we know that not so far away and a few hours earlier, the girl he would give his heart to was entering the world. Also a blue-eyed blonde. I am thankful every day for that girl. Jessie is kind, beautiful in and out, funny, with quirky and exquisite taste. She's an awesome cook who once made me bacon and egg muffins that I still dream of, and killer meatloaf. She has a deviously adorable and infectious giggle. She somehow is able to manage Kyle's 6'8" attitude from her petite throne. And together they made The Sprout - aka Jacquelyn Jean, the prettiest girl I've ever seen.
It's true, I have become one of those people. She fills me with a joy I never knew was possible. I can't even fully describe how I feel about Sprout, words just sort of fail me - as hard as that may be to believe. To say I am thankful is so inadequate. But boy, am I ever thankful. For her golden, curly hair and big blue eyes, her freely given smile with its curly-up corners, and the way she walks away and then turns back to smile over her shoulder as if to say, "Oh yeah. I'm adorable." The way she creates the most perfect, goofy photo ops. Her inquisitive nature, and her ambition. Her pureness. The way she holds things in her fingers and looks at them with the intention of learning something.
And her little huge feet. Which look a lot like her father's.
Happy Birthday Kyle and Jessie.
Content copyright © Shugacans/Leandra Sullivan. All rights reserved.
