Personally, I don't trust any revolution where love is not allowed. ~ Maya Angelou
Today, I am thinking life is a wheel. Tomorrow, it may be a box but today, it is a wheel: It turns and when the revolution is complete – a new view, new circumstances.
According to my son, I am a mother who, at various times, has been more or less a curse or some sort of unexplainable cosmic blessing.
Over the years, he has hurled some very original insults my way. When he was 4, he called me a nettle nose – the worst thing imaginable to a child who has grown up in "the country" and where a stinging nettle is, well, the worst thing you could possibly run into.
Only once has he told me he hated me. He was about 10 and the Good Lawd knows what "No" got him so riled but it did. He dissolved in tears, climbed the tree to his tree house, and told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was not invited up to his tree, and that his affections were no longer mine.
Both times I was impressed with his passion and his righteous indignation. Both times I knew that no matter what he hurtled my way, I would be there for him. Unequivocally.
Now he lives over a thousand miles away. I am getting used to it but I don't like the fact that he is now an entire plane trip away rather than a mere road trip. I find myself entangled by a thousand threads I can not see but whose weight ensnare me nonetheless.
Is he eating dinner alone tonight?
Was his breakfast a good one? And I don't mean did he eat well. I mean, did anyone greet his morning with a smile?
When he puts his head upon the pillow at night, is there anyone who wishes him – even silently – sweet dreams? Infinite blessings from the universe?
Today, my son called home in tears. I have not heard him cry in a long, long time. It turns out that a childhood friend had died: an unimaginable slip off a roof, one drink too many, only new acquaintances in a foreign country to cope.
I think, as my own child cries: Did this other child have someone there who graced his days with laughter? With gentleness? With sweet dreams or blessings from the universe?
I think, how fragile are the limned connections that give us so much life. My son's tears. His friend's remembered laughter.
Today, life is like a wheel. The wheel turns and here we are: New view. New circumstances.