carpe diem

My mom used to say life is backwards. To my shock, I find I agree. Think: When you have small children, what you need most is time, money, an extra pair of hands. Later on, when you start to have time and money, you have sweet creatures who want stuff and need to be taken or driven to lessons/sports/activities. These in turn grow into ungainly creatures who want the car.... And when you have teenagers, what you need most is patience, common sense and strength of character, and yet you are haunted by the very plausible thought that some demon may have switched your adorable open-hearted little ones for these grumpy strangers who stay in the shower till all the hot water is gone.

Life continues:
That boy whose room was so messy his mom actually called that TV show where a team comes to your house, sells the garbage (scary thought - to whom?), cleans, decorates, brings new furniture and makes the family swear you'll keep it up - yes, that boy! He's now a neat freak Army officer whose rare visits to his childhood home are distinguished by an irrepressible tendency to rearrange his mom's furniture. Our country is in safe and well-organized hands.


The girl who went to med school hoping to work with Doctors Without Borders? she fell in love. He broke her heart. It was 1953 all over again, says the Old Bat. Remember the Old Bat? sees all, knows all, understands all, tells no secrets... The girl is looking for a job, temping, trying to keep her student loans current. The Old Bat wants to live long enough to see her "settled."

"Settled" used to mean married. It doesn't mean that any more, the Old Bat tells me. She wants to see her girl in a stable relationship with someone who cares about her and puts her first. This story isn't over yet. We hope.

The social butterfly recently buried a child. Her husband won't discuss it. She knows the day will come when they talk. For now, she volunteers with the Suicide Prevention Hotline. She tutors. She finds kind things she can do for friends. For strangers. It's a little early to think about family. She needs to be out of the house during the day. She tries to sleep at night. She tries not to wonder. For now.

We all know them, we all know of them, maybe we are some of them: the stoner who cleaned up and is a pillar of the community, the rebellious girl with purple hair who settles insurance claims, the kid who moaned and whined about vegetables who blogs about his clean, green, healthy life. And sadly we've known the golden children whose lives take unforeseen, unwanted turns.

Oh, if only we could see through the whining toddler, the wailing five-year-old, the recalcitrant teen, to the philanthropist, to the statesman, the kindly parent, the saint! If only we could see the impending loss in time to grab them out of its way ...
Normal programming will resume when we have finished the rest of the leftover turkey. I couldn't buy a small enough bird to fit our shrunken group this year, so we are dealing with leftovers. In many ways.