Last night, after two days hawking non-stop, on my feet, taking care of a sick child while I was home, then back again to hawk some more...the children, mine and the daughter-child who lives in "The Big House", were scurrying about, being many kinds of secretive in their comings and goings.
My presence was requested, via telephone, by the mother of the daughter-child, for dinner at 8:00 in "The Big House". Of course I declined, being many kinds of tired...I was then informed my presence was expected, for dinner at 8:00 in "The Big House".
"Oh" I replied, to the mother of the daughter-child. The daughter-child, busily scheming, sneaking, and planning BIG THINGS, hand-in-hand with The Mer. "Then I shall be there at 8:00 sharp - with, as they say very little anymore, bells on."
My first clue that something was not quite right in the world last evening, was the Cabana door bursting open, not an unusual event in and of it's self, yet this bursting forth, brought with it not only leaves a plenty from the menopausal dogwood, but two impish children bearing gifts of freshly folded laundry, warm and toasty from the basement.
The dumb-struck look upon my dually spectacled face, I'm sure was a sight. For the imps grinned wide-ish grins exclaiming "What?!" again and again in unison. Then as if directing like a Greek Yia Yia, told me "STAY HERE UNTIL WE COME AND GET YOU!"
I dared not move an inch, Yia Yia's pack wooden spoons and wield them like shrikens at any given moment. Except for mine, she packed a Derringer.
Moments passed, then multi-moments, and just as I was deeply engrossed in an article on Japanese Micro-Homes, tsubomi's in particular...the whirl wind that is the children I love, came cold and excitedly through the Cabana door - demanding my eyes, all six of them be closed tight.
Holding their hands (and peeking now and then at my feet for safety) We made our way to "The Big House" . There was blue grass on the stereo, I could sense the darkness like a pool of thick black cool water.
Still holding impish hands, I was directed to "NOW!"
What "Now" beheld was my surrogate family, circling a table set for royalty. There was impish hand scribed place cards, candles lit, antique silver ware to eat the fresh Autumn vegetables in the homemade chicken soup...mostly, there were two angels, one holding my right hand, one holding my left.
When I opened my gift from The Mer, I was reminded my baby has not lost his vision, his ability to see the glorious in the mundane, to find, through this sense that which cannot be found/seen by so many. I was reminded my child loves me regardless of where we're living, because we are family.
What a wonderful birthday surprise and you write it like a fairytale.
Happy belated birthday.
Posted by: Lori G | Monday, November 26, 2007 at 12:28 PM