I have a lump in my throat tonight. Not sure if the cause is late evening patio coffee or emotion; although if I had to guess with a gun to my head, I'd say emotion.
My oldest gypsy is in NYC tonight. She spent the day watching films and hearing lectures about breastfeeding. At one point she texted me to say that she had become emotional at times from the subject content. I replied by saying that breastfeeding is an incredibly emotional experience and time nursing my children can be counted as some of the most fulfilling moments of my life. We talked later, after we'd both finished our respective dinners. She'd eaten Mexican food in NY, I'd grilled Mexican food in MI. We talked about the day, and after we hung up, I could feel the weight of the melancholy that she reluctantly carried as if it were my own. We are connected, you see.
The middle gypsy is in Seattle. He texted earlier today saying he was getting ready to attend a parade that celebrates the pride of some of his friends. He called his dad as he was walking the crowded streets and laughingly commented that he felt like he was entering Sodom and Gommorah. I enjoy talking with him these days even though his 22 year old cynicism burns my heart more than coffee or Mexican food ever has.
The youngest gypsy is wandering away from the easiness of childhood. He still laughs at the gas caused by the beans he ate, but showers more often, puts gel in his hair, and is intrigued by the dark skinned beauty of the neighbor girls. I see him sitting in the hammock talking with one of them while the adults from both families prepare a meal to share together in our backyard.
I'm having a hard time praying. Of late I've seen tramps and thieves steal into these young gypsies lives. I struggle with desiring mercy for those I see as potential hurters (a re-occuring theme in my life). I want to protect our gypsies, have them come back and stay under the covering that their father and I could provide. They want tribes of their own though; a right and natural progression as they travel farther from childhood into the land of adults.
About Me
- tomirose
- I'm a wife of a wonderful man, mom to three awesome children. I like to laugh, encourage, and I would love to write. I think community is a wonderful thing, and I'd like people to be less cynical about church, not THE church, but the institution that we call the church. I think soul patches, piercings and tattoos are kinda cool; attitudes are not. Sometimes I lie in bed and think about weird things.. like why I like the taste of bubblemint gum, but despise the taste of our youngest son's bubblemint flavored toothpaste, or if our older children have already met their future spouses, how amazing it is that I've been married to the same man for thirty-two years, and why dryer lint looks the way it does. I hate having cold feet, being too hot, and stubbing my pinkie toe. I like to read pretty much anything but angsty poetry, well no I lied..not about the angsty poetry, but I don't much like to read biographies either. Laundry is the bane of my existence, along with cleaning out the refrigerator, and just plain cleaning.
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