meanderings

... and on earth, peace, good will towards men

Chrismas story 2004

Mother and daughter lay spooning upon the bed. The mother's protective arm lay tucked beneath the small girl's tummy, the dark curls of her head burrowed under the mother's chin. The soft sigh of breath moved in and out of the small open mouth, a baby smell of saliva and sweat drifted up to the mother's welcoming nostrils more intoxicating than the strongest nectar. The scene sang of peace and contentment, belying the tremors of fear beating within the mother's breast.
Her eyes were closed, not in peaceful solemnity, but in cold, dread fear. Her thoughts could not leave the morning news show where a child had been kidnapped from his mother's shopping cart in a crowded store. How could such a thing happen! Why had no one stopped that crazed woman from fleeing with another woman's child? How was a mother to protect her beloved children in a world where such a thing could happen!
She was so aware of the soft, fragile body cuddled beside her. A physical sensation of nausea swept over her as she imagined someone taking her precious daughter. How could any mother live with the vision of her child in pain and out of her protective reach? She moved imperceptibly closer to her baby, careful not to squeeze or discomfort her in her sleep. Even in her terror of what could happen to this beautiful, sleeping child, she would not cause her the least discomfort. This child was her heart, her soul, her resurrection. She had never dreamed that she could love anyone this intensely.
It was a frightening, exhilarating experience. It was like taking a leap from the top of a cliff with only a bit of wood and canvas to go flying through wind currents, something she had never done, but which could send a thrill of excitement and terror down her spine just thinking of it. Who would have thought that having a baby would so change everything? She was not the same person. She was better and she was worse. She was more aware than ever of what really mattered in life, and she was more fearful than she had ever been. She had so much more to lose...
Gently, she brushed her fingers through the fine, silky hair that had fallen over her daughter's forehead. She experienced a love so fierce it was like a raging fire that ran through her belly threatening to consume her. And yet, it was a feeling of pure joy, pure awe, this wondrous gift holding her mother's heart with her sleeve, clasped tightly between tiny, stubby fingers in a delicate but tenacious hold. Her lips brushed the tender flesh and she listened to her even gentle breathing. Slowly, mercifully, the fear gripping her heart released its brutal embrace and she was overcome by the blessed relief of sleep.

* * *
With her daughter happily feeding herself and their dog from her highchair perch, the mother finished the last touches of her husband's soup and salad supper. He would be home soon, probably smelling of smoke... a scent neither of them would mention. A sharp pain rent her chest as she thought of how he had battled his addiction and won shortly before their daughter's birth. He still would not smoke in the house where their beloved child's lungs might suffer, nor would he endure the pain in her own eyes were he to indulge in her presence. They both knew the ramifications of his smoking. Both his mother and his grandfather had died slowly and painfully from lung cancer. Both had been two-pack-a-day-ers. But the stress and the pull of addiction had once again claimed him, and the damage he was doing his self esteem might be equal to the damage he was doing to his lungs.
She would not mention it. She would smile and kiss him and welcome him home with a love that was deep and strong and unconditional. She knew that anything she could say would only hurt. She sighed and wiped away a tear that had escaped unknowingly from her eye as she heard his hand upon the door.
He kissed her first. He always did. Then he accepted a very messy kiss from both his daughter and his dog. She smiled as she watched his banter with both. They adored him, as she did. She could not think of this sweet, beautiful man dying a slow and painful death. Shaking her torturous thoughts aside, she set his plate on the table.

* * *

Her father insisted on driving, as always. He was not in good health. He'd had two minor heart attacks already and his blood pressure continued to be too high in spite of all the medication he took. But it was not in his upbringing to let his son-in-law drive, and certainly not his daughter or his wife. He did allow his son-in-law the front seat where they talked of politics and sports. Her mother sat in the back, playing a peek-a-boo game with their granddaughter.
It was Christmas Eve and they were on their way to her brother's house for dinner. The macaroni and cheese lay warm on her lap. "I'll have to diet for the next three weeks to lose all this holiday weight," she thought to herself. "I can always take the stroller and do a few laps around the neighborhood." Her daughter loved to go fast. But then there was that one hill... What if she tripped or lost control and the stroller got away from her. It could go out into the street, and sometimes cars drove too fast there... And there was a bit of a curve.... They might not be able to see her... What if the car swerved off the road? There wasn't a sidewalk, only a paved shoulder...
She looked over at her daughter who met her gaze with a smile and then a giggle. She couldn't help but return that beatific look even as her heart skipped a beat at her fearful thoughts. She drew her face closer as her daughter clasped her hair and delightedly pulled. "Owwww" she cried playfully as her daughter continued to giggle and pull. She gently extricated her hair from the tiny fingers and sucked on the offending fists. "You tyrant you!" she teased, and her heart soared with the ecstasy of the moment.

* * *

It had been a good family gathering and they were all tired. Wonder of wonder, her husband was in the front seat behind the wheel. Her father and mother sat in the back holding hands, leaning into one another and dozing lightly. Her daughter also slept, snuggled into her carseat between them. They usually kept her in the back, but it was a top of the line edition and she loved the sight of her parents snuggled together in the back. The radio serenaded them with Christmas carols as they hummed along.
Her husband reached over to take her hand. His hand was steady with no sign of the long time without a cigarette. Maybe this would be the beginning of his renewed battle with nicotine... Maybe this time his abstinence would be permanent. She sighed contentedly and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
It all happened so suddenly that it was over before her first terrified intake of breath. They had been driving down the interstate with the cruise control at 72 when the six point deer flashed before their headlights and was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Her husband's curse awoke her parents in the backseat while her daughter remained blissfully unaware. Her heart pounded with the realization of what had just past. Five seconds difference and their whole family would probably have been killed. Five seconds and a deer would have realized every fear she had ever had. Five seconds and her life, had she survived, would have been forever changed. Five seconds, and the event that would have robbed her of all she loved most in life was something that she had never thought to fear, or even worry about.
It was a mind-boggling and life changing thought. In that terrifying moment, she realized that it was not within her power to protect herself, her child or anyone else she loved from the things that could hurt them. It was the horrifying realization of what it meant to be human. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably. She raised her eyes to those of her equally shocked and devastated husband who quickly turned his eyes back to the road. Both hands trembled upon the steering wheel. Her eyes dropped to their sleeping child and the smile that played upon her tranquil face.
In the stillness of that moment, the high sweet pitch of the violin echoed through the car with "What child is this?", and it was as if God had spoken aloud. This is my child. You are my child. Your daughter is my child, and I love her more than you will ever be able to. You are all my children. You do not need to live in fear. Listen. Feel my love. Live in peace.

Open our eyes, O God, to see your hand at work in our world.
Open our hearts to live in thankfulness for your presence.
Open our lips with the words we need to tell others; that you have come among us and will never leave us alone.
Amen


i'm having a problem with sadness today. i miss my girls.
and i'm tired. our last show is today.
but it feels deeper.
i feel a great need for the divine today. i kept thinking i was going to cry in church. i was thinking about how far away my babies are, but again it seemed more... like the grief of death after the shock begins to wear off... the news full of violence (while our president has gained weight on donuts), the real herdmans in my play who struggle so with their desire to be loved, my own struggles with loneliness in feeling so different....
i need this prayer today, and hopefully my next prayer will be a psalm...(one of the praise and thanksgiving variety)....
peace