Saturday, July 18, 2009

Time to Catch Up

I'm always amazed by time. When we're young, it moves much too slowly. When we're bored or somewhere we'd rather not be, it barely moves at all. When we stop paying attention, it takes flight and rushes past us at the speed of light, stealing opportunities, flaunting it's importance, and reminding us that we cannot escape it's passage. A month evaporated while my mind was on auto-pilot. It is now The Awakening Hour, and time to share what I've discovered.
It's been a very interesting journey since my last post. I was granted the privilege of caring for my eleven week-old great-nephew, "Alexander", twice a week. This use of my time has opened my eyes in ways I never thought possible.
Every moment that I am with him, I am painfully aware of each word that slides over my lips. I know he listens in ways that grown-ups have forgotten. He really hears what I have to say, so every word must have meaning. I know he's secretly saving them for future blackmail.
I analyze every move his little body makes, making sure I don't miss the subtle hints that babies fling into the open air, trusting that you'll receive each one and respond accordingly. He's too little to understand that I'm not psychic, so I try to be, just for him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time is suspended when Alex is with me. It gives me the rare opportunity to contemplate what these moments will look like in the reflections down the road. I must ensure that the memories we are making are as honest and pure as he is right now...before the realities of life change him and self doubt worms it's way into the core of his very being. Inevitable though it may be, I have committed myself to denying any faults he may inherit. I shall speak to him only of his greatness, and see in him all that is possible and good.

I have also discovered a strength in my niece and nephew (Alex's parents) that I did not know existed. Until Alex's birth, these two were children in my mind. I now know that it was I who needed to open my eyes, so that I could witness the unfolding of these two beautiful butterflies.
Since my last entry, my dad has come through surgery to remove his colon cancer. He is in pain, but the prognosis is good, or so say the doctors. I tend to think that it's really up to the powers that be and the man himself.
I'm beginning to see death as a perfect alignment of timed events, which may suggest that everything is preordained. The jury is still out on that one.

So many people have gone while this month whispered past me. Some expected, and other's by complete us. I have wondered about each one, and thought how it seemed as if they were ready, even if we were not. It's interesting and odd to be having such thoughts in the midst of a new infant in my life. Curious indeed.

I'm also finding it curious how the course of my life seems to resemble the ocean. Sometimes it's so still that I can see myself in it's reflection. Everything is so clear, constant and healing. In these times, I can give a lot of myself without losing energy. It's where I am now.
A few weeks ago, I met a very young, talented new illustrator, "Jesse". Getting to know him has made me realize how much I enjoy helping people get started on the road to fulfilling their dream. I can't do it for them...(let's face it, I'm not there yet myself!) but I can give them the tools that they need, and steer them in the right direction. It isn't much, but I remember how rare it was for me to find guidance in the beginning. There are so many questions, and not too many people who will personally take the time to answer them directly. They don't realize how kindness boomerangs back, in ways could you never imagined. For now, Jesse is all the proof I need.
There are times when you just know that you are where you should be.


Kelly Alexander said...

All I can say is that my little family will always love you and uncle cookie and will always!!

Love Alex's mommy

Tara said...

To give without getting drained--what a huge accomplishment for the moment.