I try to joke about it, but the truth is that when every day this week is forecast to be above 105? I die a little. (See? Still with the jokes.) It's absolutely sapping me. I can think of nothing to do that doesn't involve misery, at least in small bursts.
So enters the boredom. The grouchies. The endless days of same-old, same-old.
Buckled into their seats on our way to Target, the girls are deep in discussion.
Mia hems and haws over what her favorite color actually is. Yesterday it was green. Last week it was turquoise. Last month it was blue. She's busy wondering if she can have a favorite group of colors since the whole 'pick one' thing isn't working out for her. "Lauren, I really like blue, green, and yellow now. Those are definitely my favorites." (Last week, she said the same thing of blue, silver, and white.)
Lauren isn't so scattered. Her true favorite is simple and timeless: pink. "That's fine if you want lots, Mia. I just like pink for my favorite. Pink bubblegum, pink kitties, pink flowers. Pink is the beautifullest. Is that fine if I just love pink, Mia?"
Her choice is graciously affirmed. "Yeah, that's fine. But...Ugh! Why can't I just pick one favorite!" She throws her hands in the air to emphasise her irritation. "Alright, alright: I'm not picking one color. I just love them all. They're all my favorites."
They continue to chatter, distracting me from the wilted day. My wilted mood. I'm cheered up for seconds at a time. Only a drop in the pond, but still...drips leave tiny wakes and spread to the shore eventually, right? I cling to the simplicity of their words. And of their conversation.
They don't mind the endless days of heat. They don't care if the car's interior steals their breath upon entrance. There are other things to think about.
So I let my mind wander. What color do I love best?
I love the orange plaids on Mia's sundress that make her blue eyes burst into brilliance. I love the white ruffle on Lauren's shirt that compliments her pink-flushed cheeks after a bit of outdoor play. I love the blue of the pool-water's mellow waves. I love the green of the resilient, old sycamore tree's leaves and their pale barked trunks. I love the faint, shimmery purple of the marks that are beginning to decorate my belly. I love the golden glow of my daughters' hair -- shadeless and indescribable. I love the color of laughter -- bright and bouncy and lasting. I love the rainbow that dances on the sprinkler's spray as I set it under our baby tree in the backyard....
Like a rubber-band snapping back into place, the glare of noontime sun off the car in front of me snaps me back from joyful contemplation. I shift in my seat to avoid the blinding flash. I switch lanes to pass the offender.
The clarity lasted but a moment. If I can pause long enough throughout the day, I can maybe recapture its brilliance?
It will come again to me, in short bursts, and for today, that will have to be enough. Sometimes the beauty in the mundane is vaporous and elusive; to forget that is to forget that the beauty itself is stunning and precious.
Some days, all we can do is wait it out. And that's okay. It will come around again.
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So true. Waiting it out, and enjoying the little bursts of happiness in-between. Making sure not to take life for granted. You are a very talented writer!
ReplyDeleteI love how you compared the gorgeous colors to their reflection on your kids...especially the orange. :-)
ReplyDeleteSummer's almost over (boo) so the heat will disappear soon! :-)
I think this is technically a lousy comment, but all I can think to say is: gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteReally, gorgeous.
It will. One of the hardest things I do emotionally is combat those kinds of days whilst realizing that I could seek beauty and joy out. But to do that would, as you said, kind of negate the real power and awesomeness wrapped up in it.
ReplyDeleteuhm.....sorry. I can't relate to that. I have been enjoying these tripple digit days just as much as I enjoyed the 24 inches of snow that we got just a few short months ago. It rains on the good, and rains on the bad. So whether I'm good or bad, happy or sad, I still get sunshine, clouds, hot and cold, and am glad that I can write to friends in the southern hemisphere and brag about whatever it happens to be here at the time because they are always envious since they are in summer when we are in winter, etc. And with today's modern conveniences it is hard to find something to complain about weather wise.
ReplyDeleteI completely understand this relentless heat melting your enthusiasm for life. But the final three paragraphs of this post are sheer poetry to me. So beautiful.
ReplyDelete