We decided which super powers we’d like to have.
Grace: flight
Whit: reading peoples’ minds
me: time travel
Month: October 2008
It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.
– Brother David Steindl-Rast
One Secret Thing
I just read Sharon Olds’ newest book of poetry, One Secret Thing. I think Olds is one of the best poets working today and often think of her affectionately as the literary daughter of the three women I wrote my thesis on (Sexton, Rich, Kumin).
This most recent book is a meditation on motherhood and daughterhood, and describes in luminous, deeply sad detail the process of watching her mother die. Michael Ondaatje’s blurb on the back of the book says it far better than I could (and his words are, also, I think, gorgeous):
Sharon Olds’ s poems are pure fire in the hands – risky, on the verge of falling, and in the end leaping up. I love the roughness and humor and brag and tenderness and completion in her work as she carries the reader through rooms of passion and loss.
The poem called One Secret Thing dwells on the intimate physical details of the end of life and reminds me of when Nana was so sick. Watching Mum take care of her and nurse her was deeply moving, something I will never forget. How I wish Nana had known Gracie.
The poem called When Our Firstborn Slept In contains a line that reminds me of the early days of Grace’s life:
…Girl of a mother,
mother of a girl, I paced, listening,
almost part-fearing, sometimes …
This reminds me of the memory I’ve cited before of trying to sleep while Mum walked with infant Grace above my head. I’m thinking of Grammy and Nana and Mum and Grace today. The thoughts are unformed and inarticulate, but so am I!
First cold day of the year. These are last year’s hats and it’s clearly time to step up from size 18-24 months for Whit.
As we drove down Walden Street, which is being ripped up, Whit commented on how bumpy it was.
me: “Yes, I biked down this street last night to dinner and it was very bumpy.”
Grace: “You biked to your dinner last night?”
me: “Yes, I did.”
Grace: “Were you wearing a fancy dress?”
me: “No, but I was wearing fancy shoes, and my feet were cold!”
Grace: “That’s cool, Mum.”
me: “Really, Grace? You think I’m cool?” (major surprise)
Grace: “Well, if you do cool things.” (her skepticism betraying her opinion that last night was a one-time foray into the realm of cool)
the end of a birthday
Shortly after going to bed last night Gracie got up to go to the bathroom (in every way, my daughter). I was folding laundry in my room and asked her to come in. We sat together at the end of the bed, I read her this special classic that a wonderful blog friend had sent to me (thank you!) and I took these pictures.
Now We Are Six
When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five, I was just alive.
But now I am Six, I’m as clever as clever,
So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.
– AA Milne
