A Mother's Priorities
I walk slowly around the bases, kicking at the dirt and marveling, not so much at the dirt rising up into the air, but the fact that I haven't watched it do so in so long. I stand on first base and look at the empty plate, and the rusting backstop. I regret the fact that I don't have my glove. That I don't even know where it was anymore. Regretting it even as my mind registered that there were no players, no ball, no need for the glove. Then I wonder why I even came out here.
"It seems like a fitting place." She answers from the pitcher's mound.
I watch Her walk towards me, marveling at Her beauty and grace. I suspect that She would look stunning even dressed for the game that wasn't being played here. Not a huge leap, since Her clothes don't match the present time period, and still She is gorgeous.
"But why?" I ask. "Do my memories of this place mean that much?"
"Of course they do." She says with a laugh. "This is your place. More than the city you like to identify yourself with. More than most of your past. This is the place you always seem to return to."
"Always return to?" I ask, surprised. "I haven't been here in years."
"Haven't you?" She arches her eyebrow in that expression that always infuriates me, and excites me in that manner that any common expression of one you love will. "Shall we walk down memory lane?" She points to the raised field behind us. "Up there you tore your knee up in two consecutive years of playing soccer. 15 and 16 years ago, roughly."
She turns and walks slowly along the bases. "This field is the one that you played softball on during that time and beyond." She turns and points up the street. "You know who lives over there. You know what role he played for two years 5-6 years ago." She turns back to me. "And now you are back."
"This time doesn't count. I am not even really here." I point out.
"You will be back." She answers. "And even if you wouldn't, this would be an important place." She turns to look squarely at me again. "Now tell me why you are in this place now."
"It is because of him, isn't it?" I ask. I don't say who he is. She knows who I mean.
"It is." She confirms.
"Do you not want me to go ahead with the baptism?"
She laughs and turns to walk towards the soccer fields. She turns Her head slightly to call over Her shoulder. "You know I have no reason to have a problem with it. Do you?"
I trot to catch up with Her. "No, I don't have a problem with it."
"Then why are we here?" She pushes.
"Because he isn't going to do it." I admit my concerns.
"Then what will you do?"
"I am not sure." I admit.
"You are not sure, because you don't know who else you would be willing to have do it." She shows the decency of pointing out what I already know. I just nod. "What about Chris?"
"You know the answer to that." I point out, my temper demonstrating its greater power over me in this realm in which I address Her.
She laughs, and rather than angering me, it defuses my temper. "If I only asked questions that I didn't know the answers to, we would never get anywhere, and you would learn nothing." Her expression got more stern. "Now answer my question."
"I have no problem with Chris doing it."
"You lie." She states simply. "But that is okay. Because you lie to yourself, so I don't hold you responsible for being deceived."
"Great." I reply, annoyed. "So please, enlighten me."
She walks halfway up the hill and sits in the grass. Looking at me, She smiles. "You have a problem with Chris doing it, because that removes the ceremony. It is no longer a big deal. Since the baptism itself means nothing to you, the only refuge of importance that you have is the ritual."
"That's not completely it." I argue.
"No. Your choice in God-Parents was well thought out, and you fear the greater negative impact if they don't have the solemn ritual to observe as part of this, given the fact that they may already doubt your sincerity." She is giving me that "pin you to the wall" gaze again.
"I know my intentions, I am not sure that they do."
"Something that you should probably discuss at some point." She points out.
"I kind of hoped to do that over a couple of beers during the party after." I admit.
"I know."
I think this over, and my defiance rises once more. "So will he refuse?"
"You will know soon enough." She smiles.
"You can't tell me?" I demand.
"No, because that would counteract the opportunity."
"What opportunity?" I am approaching true anger now, as She once more seems to triviallize something so important to me.
"I don't trivialize it." She replies, a little short. "If I was willing to do so, I would answer your question and save you the time."
"And the expenditure of this time offers me what?" I demand.
"The opportunity to play the game as it should be played." I start to answer and She stands. She simply stands, yet I take it like an imperative and say nothing. "You have the opportunity to fight for what you want. You can succeed. I won't tell you the odds of this success, but I will say that if you don't fight, he will refuse you. Contrary to your opinion on history, he was never your friend, so you don't have that to rely on. Fight if that is what you want. Short of that, talk to your father before you decide for him."
She walks up the hill again. Unwilling to let it go, I follow her. "You know that is a taboo subject that neither of us can breach the wall of."
I expect anger. I don't expact the truly amused smile. "The war is fiction, darling." She replies. "And even if it wasn't you saw it work out. Not because that is what you wanted, but because that is what was. You can talk to him. I won't push though. Talk to him when you are ready."
She stops in the middle of the field. "You know how to instigate the conversation with your uncle. In fact you know many ways. You should really do so even as this advances. Blind-siding him is not the answer."
"It has never been my intention to blind side him." I defend myself.
"I know that." She answers. "You have your answers now. There is only one thing left for me to impart."
"What is that?"
"You didn't come here to talk about this. You came here to talk about your articles." She says. "Now you have two ways of looking at this. One, I just derailed your intentions. Two, perhaps I don't just answer your call and tell you what you want to hear, but have some control after all."
The thoughts flood back into my mind again. "But wait..."
She smiles. "Not this time. Come back soon and we will discuss it."
"Why not now?" I demand. "This is important."
"True." She acknowledges. "But what we just discussed gives you answers you need. This other subject you know the answers to."
"So you will just leave me floating because you are sure I know the answer?" I demand, hurt by this impending abandonment.
"Of course not." She says with a laugh. "You know all you need to do is ask, and I will go nowhere until you have the answers you need. Ask and I don't walk away now." She holds a finger up and taps it against Her temple. "But think first. Think about this: Did I tell you that we didn't discuss it because I assume you have the answers? Or did I tell you because I answered you already, and in your heart you know this?"
"Either way it sounds like you tell me to think about it and figure it out."
"You know the question. Switch roles, and what would your answer be to me?"
With that I realize that She is right, that I have Her answer already. I realize this, and the fact that She is gone. Finally, I realize why She didn't answer it in this discussion. I realize that this discussion would be written down, and Her answer was as to what was secret and what wasn't.
I realize that She was right.
On the wind is a voice. "Of course I am right, and I am never gone."
"It seems like a fitting place." She answers from the pitcher's mound.
I watch Her walk towards me, marveling at Her beauty and grace. I suspect that She would look stunning even dressed for the game that wasn't being played here. Not a huge leap, since Her clothes don't match the present time period, and still She is gorgeous.
"But why?" I ask. "Do my memories of this place mean that much?"
"Of course they do." She says with a laugh. "This is your place. More than the city you like to identify yourself with. More than most of your past. This is the place you always seem to return to."
"Always return to?" I ask, surprised. "I haven't been here in years."
"Haven't you?" She arches her eyebrow in that expression that always infuriates me, and excites me in that manner that any common expression of one you love will. "Shall we walk down memory lane?" She points to the raised field behind us. "Up there you tore your knee up in two consecutive years of playing soccer. 15 and 16 years ago, roughly."
She turns and walks slowly along the bases. "This field is the one that you played softball on during that time and beyond." She turns and points up the street. "You know who lives over there. You know what role he played for two years 5-6 years ago." She turns back to me. "And now you are back."
"This time doesn't count. I am not even really here." I point out.
"You will be back." She answers. "And even if you wouldn't, this would be an important place." She turns to look squarely at me again. "Now tell me why you are in this place now."
"It is because of him, isn't it?" I ask. I don't say who he is. She knows who I mean.
"It is." She confirms.
"Do you not want me to go ahead with the baptism?"
She laughs and turns to walk towards the soccer fields. She turns Her head slightly to call over Her shoulder. "You know I have no reason to have a problem with it. Do you?"
I trot to catch up with Her. "No, I don't have a problem with it."
"Then why are we here?" She pushes.
"Because he isn't going to do it." I admit my concerns.
"Then what will you do?"
"I am not sure." I admit.
"You are not sure, because you don't know who else you would be willing to have do it." She shows the decency of pointing out what I already know. I just nod. "What about Chris?"
"You know the answer to that." I point out, my temper demonstrating its greater power over me in this realm in which I address Her.
She laughs, and rather than angering me, it defuses my temper. "If I only asked questions that I didn't know the answers to, we would never get anywhere, and you would learn nothing." Her expression got more stern. "Now answer my question."
"I have no problem with Chris doing it."
"You lie." She states simply. "But that is okay. Because you lie to yourself, so I don't hold you responsible for being deceived."
"Great." I reply, annoyed. "So please, enlighten me."
She walks halfway up the hill and sits in the grass. Looking at me, She smiles. "You have a problem with Chris doing it, because that removes the ceremony. It is no longer a big deal. Since the baptism itself means nothing to you, the only refuge of importance that you have is the ritual."
"That's not completely it." I argue.
"No. Your choice in God-Parents was well thought out, and you fear the greater negative impact if they don't have the solemn ritual to observe as part of this, given the fact that they may already doubt your sincerity." She is giving me that "pin you to the wall" gaze again.
"I know my intentions, I am not sure that they do."
"Something that you should probably discuss at some point." She points out.
"I kind of hoped to do that over a couple of beers during the party after." I admit.
"I know."
I think this over, and my defiance rises once more. "So will he refuse?"
"You will know soon enough." She smiles.
"You can't tell me?" I demand.
"No, because that would counteract the opportunity."
"What opportunity?" I am approaching true anger now, as She once more seems to triviallize something so important to me.
"I don't trivialize it." She replies, a little short. "If I was willing to do so, I would answer your question and save you the time."
"And the expenditure of this time offers me what?" I demand.
"The opportunity to play the game as it should be played." I start to answer and She stands. She simply stands, yet I take it like an imperative and say nothing. "You have the opportunity to fight for what you want. You can succeed. I won't tell you the odds of this success, but I will say that if you don't fight, he will refuse you. Contrary to your opinion on history, he was never your friend, so you don't have that to rely on. Fight if that is what you want. Short of that, talk to your father before you decide for him."
She walks up the hill again. Unwilling to let it go, I follow her. "You know that is a taboo subject that neither of us can breach the wall of."
I expect anger. I don't expact the truly amused smile. "The war is fiction, darling." She replies. "And even if it wasn't you saw it work out. Not because that is what you wanted, but because that is what was. You can talk to him. I won't push though. Talk to him when you are ready."
She stops in the middle of the field. "You know how to instigate the conversation with your uncle. In fact you know many ways. You should really do so even as this advances. Blind-siding him is not the answer."
"It has never been my intention to blind side him." I defend myself.
"I know that." She answers. "You have your answers now. There is only one thing left for me to impart."
"What is that?"
"You didn't come here to talk about this. You came here to talk about your articles." She says. "Now you have two ways of looking at this. One, I just derailed your intentions. Two, perhaps I don't just answer your call and tell you what you want to hear, but have some control after all."
The thoughts flood back into my mind again. "But wait..."
She smiles. "Not this time. Come back soon and we will discuss it."
"Why not now?" I demand. "This is important."
"True." She acknowledges. "But what we just discussed gives you answers you need. This other subject you know the answers to."
"So you will just leave me floating because you are sure I know the answer?" I demand, hurt by this impending abandonment.
"Of course not." She says with a laugh. "You know all you need to do is ask, and I will go nowhere until you have the answers you need. Ask and I don't walk away now." She holds a finger up and taps it against Her temple. "But think first. Think about this: Did I tell you that we didn't discuss it because I assume you have the answers? Or did I tell you because I answered you already, and in your heart you know this?"
"Either way it sounds like you tell me to think about it and figure it out."
"You know the question. Switch roles, and what would your answer be to me?"
With that I realize that She is right, that I have Her answer already. I realize this, and the fact that She is gone. Finally, I realize why She didn't answer it in this discussion. I realize that this discussion would be written down, and Her answer was as to what was secret and what wasn't.
I realize that She was right.
On the wind is a voice. "Of course I am right, and I am never gone."
Labels: "Mother Post"
posted by Wanderer at 9:49 PM
8 Comments:
I thought some of the pronouns were various people and I was confused all the way until the end, when I figured out who you were talking about, and then once tha was all settled I just had that same old familiar feeling I always get reading your site when I find out there's some whole other story arc in your life I never heard of.
Feel free at any point to ask me off-site about such story arcs you are unaware of.
Actually, any of you can ask me here what I am referring to, but there is always the possibility I am being somewhat cryptic in my relation of these stories to the masses on purpose. The worst that will happen is I will tell you such.
If we could get to Rochester, Pastor Art would perform the "ceremony"
I had an "experience" by the river yesterday. Interesting. But I'm not ready to tell you about it yet.
Haven't sorted it out. But I think this is the only place I could write about it and be even partially understood. Blessings on you and yours.
MaryEllen - I am sure he would be willing to do it, however, there is the gap between us. Besides, it turns out that my lack of faith in myself wasn't justified. I decided to take Her advice and be straightforward about it. So was he, and we came to an understanding. Now it is just a matter of scheduling.
good and God Bless All
last Saturday we went to an event called River Fest. I love rivers. First we had some fun with the Grandkids, and after we took them home, we went back to walk the river and relax for a while. There were some people from South America there, far off from most of the venders, doing music. Guitar and Pan Flute. It was very peaceful sounding music and great back ground for people watching and river resting. We sat on the stone wall and basked for a while. I sat facing the river and there was such a sense of Shalom. Then I noticed her. She was a lovely older woman. A crone perhaps - like myself. She dressed the way I usually dress, although today I was wearing pants and a Christian Tee Shirt. I recognized her and she recogonized me. Although I had never met her. She too was sitting there enjoying the music and the river. I looked at her and realized she was who I would have been if I had not said yes to Jesus, or Art, or this great adventure. She was lovely, but I had a sense that she was very much alone. I knew that she was a "witch"
I walked off for a moment. Art was going to buy a flute, or at least a CD from them, and I wanted to go to the near by bridge.
She was still there when I got back. And as Art got up to join me, she said to me "lovely music isn't it." And I saw the pentagram around her neck, and I smiled and said yes, and walked away with my husband, into the light of the then setting sun.
maryellen, thanks for relaying that story. You said a great deal in just a few words.
"She was lovely, but I had a sense that she was very much alone."
What do you think provoked this sense? I have my suspicions, but to equate I must state I am not alone.
"I looked at her and realized she was who I would have been if I had not said yes to Jesus, or Art, or this great adventure."
While I have little question as to your opinion in regards to saying yes to Art (a decision only open to you) I must ask, what is your feeling in regards to this? Perhaps only from my standing does one read this, but I feel from your story that she is no worse or better off than you. She simply walks a different path. Is this what you are saying?
Please, the answer to this question is important to me. The PC is not needed here. Or, barring your ability to cross that line in public forum, I have been planning on calling you again soon anyway, so consider this at least for when I do.
I would say at this point in our lives, yes, she is merely walking a different path. I'll never know if she ever came to the same cross-roads I came to. Having said that, about different paths, I'd have to say this as well...we are both still walking, we are all walking. Although there have been times lately that I've just wanted to skip the walk, stop and sit and not take one more step...and since the paths are so different, the question remains - what is the true final destination (destiny?)
I do not fear Hell, I never have.
It is not fear that keeps me on this "narrow pathe" His words not mine. It is love. Ummm, the words of Stephen King come to me...What is the opposite of Faith? Desparation.
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