Another year of unbelievable luck
November 26, 2001i know i’m getting old because today i hemmed my pants with a thread and needle, not the stapler i’d normally use. by the second leg, i was stitching so quickly i had a flash of my mother sitting on her bed and handing over the pants she’d hemmed for me. “there, all done.”
this morning, i stood in front of my house for a picture, waving to my brother, as if i were in a homeowner’s insurance commercial. we hugged goodbye inside and again on the empty street and i could feel tears well up inside, but i fought them back. i got used to having him around, in the next room over, beside me in the car’s front seat, across from me at one of our favorite restaurants. i got used to having him around, and now he’s on a plane back to seattle.
we ate too much, talked too much, laughed too much, while he was here. i got too many gifts and wishes and how old are you nows. i cried some tears, when i read my grandmother’s birthday letter and again after i spoke to her on the phone. what a lovely weekend. what a lovely life. you’ll have to excuse me, because i’m still so overwhelmed by it all.