the mud

  I have a recurring dream where we live in a house and we suddenly realize there is another whole room that we didn't know was there. It's usually cute and just needs a little touch up. They say these dreams occur when we learn something new, or have a new awakening. Well, this is about an awakening of sorts.  I am sitting here, in my back porch, which is enclosed in screens and windows and a little door outside, which is why I say in. And as I sit here, I've been working all day. And as I've been working, I've been literally lamenting the fact that I don't have a desk or a better place to sit, or a place to store things, or a place to do more. I am sitting on the couch with an old TV table from the attic in front of me and a little pencil holder and papers spread all around me. I lean forward to type and it's annoying. The cushions from the outside furniture are piled next to the windows and they are annoying too, haphazardly thrown about and piled. And I&

A crew mom from Charlie’s high school asked me for pictures from last year's end-of-year celebrations so that she can replicate some of the traditions we had. I was anxious to check through these emails so I could cross things off my growing list. But as I scrolled through old pictures, I got caught in a net of memories, people and places and smiles I’ll never forget, of Charlie’s days of high school rowing, which weren’t that long ago. Looking at his bright face through rowing, and prom and graduation, his seventh-grade awards ceremony, his third-grade class trip, then suddenly sitting in his college sweatshirt, not knowing yet what the future holds. How can this be? How can this moment have gotten here so fast? It still seems impossible to think that he is off to college. I just can’t help but see him as the little kid I relentlessly hugged without thinking, the little guy who ran around the yard chasing his older brothers and sister, the youngest and the easiest in so many ways.

 When my kids were small, I would watch things happen and think, "Thank God there is a guardian angel watching over them." They would just miss the corner of the table as they fell off the couch. The glass would fall just inches from their face. The baseball would just miss their head as they went for a catch. Once I came home to see police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks in front of our house. A woman had driven her car up on our front lawn and had just missed where the kids had been playing with my husband a few moments before. Guardian Angels. Then there were times when it wasn't a miss, but a hit: the broken bones, the cuts, and scrapes, the poison ivy that sent us to the emergency room. (Yes, it was that bad.) But there were angels in the ER too.  I thought that guardian angels were part of everyone's childhood. We used to say a prayer in elementary school, "Guardian Angel, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this day be at my si