Mama's Day.
Dude,
Remember when you were pregnant and throwing up all the time and you threw up that blue Slurpee in the car? I cleaned that up that hot summer afternoon because I love you a lot. And we both didn't want the car to stink. And remember when my Mom was visiting and we were going out to Antelope Island to show her the buffalo and we stopped for Slim Jims at the Seven-Eleven and you threw up in a bag right out front? I loved you so much right then. Morning sick like a mofo and going to see wild buffalo with your mother-in-law in the sweltering sun. What can I say?
Oh and remember that sunny spring morning when Max got attacked by that Pit Bull on the street in Brooklyn and I started stomping its head and punching it in the face to get it off? That was love for you and Max right there, babe. Big Up Protection. Love. And then when we had to bring Max home from the hospital with one of his legs bound to his chest with tons of tape and we wanted to cry so bad. But instead we just ripped off the damn tape and all three of us hung out in the living room and we knew he appreciated what we'd done? What a night, huh? That was some family shit right there, I'll tell you that much.
Then when we were leaving NYC forever and we just stood there on the shiny wood floors of our empty apartment and just felt so blue and weird and then we locked up and climbed in that giant moving truck and just drove away. That was us forming bonds, baby. Making love. Out of nothing at all.
Oh Monica...so many memories, so many talks, so many plans and bills and Seinfelds and Jager shots and backseat driving. So much dog hair. So many arguments and then so much letting shit go. Oceans of pushing and pulling. Mini lifetimes of just waiting for stuff to happen.
And then? This past winter you give me this little baby...our Violet. You were so sick all those long months when she was cooking in there! But dude, you were Bionic. Just real real strong. You had to be and you were. Then came that foggy morning in January. The best day of our lives,huh? To the first little cries she ever made on Earth, we finally held our baby girl in our shaking arms.
And oh my how we love her. I can't even start.
It all sounds so damn hokey. You hate that kind of stuff. I know all that. But it's all true anyway and you know it and I know it and you know it feels so seriously good when she cracks one of those sensational burps down in your arms. And when we listen to her sucking on her binky, the two of us grinning and silent and staring at the baby monitor. Batshit Crazy People. But pretty happy ones.
Happy Mama's Day, M. You are the wind beneath our wings!
love,
s & v
And Now, We Take A Breather.
Hey. Sometimes I just wanna talk about books and maybe movies and maybe red wine. Not kids. Here is some random book chatter:
--- Yesterday I finished a novel by Thomas Hardy, JUDE THE OBSCURE. It was sort of heart-wrenching but without any real emotional connect... which made it feel somewhat distant to me the whole time. That's not my favorite quality in fiction. It would have made a fabulous Joy Division album, but it made for a weird read. Plus, I hated all the characters. I could go on, but I would hate to throw any spoilers into the mix here. Maybe you want to read it. You could do worse ( Marley and Me!...Psyche! I liked that book!)
Lets just say, I am glad I dove into it but by the end I was happy to lay the crabby thing down for this lifetime. It's not bad, mind you. Just astoundingly depressing. Hardy quit writing fiction forever after this one: so strong were reader's reactions to the (vague) sexuality and deep class divisions that anchor the themes.
--- I loved Hardy's FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD though. Just beautifully written. Some real thrilling natural descriptions here. One, a thunderstorm passage, is up there with Lear on the heath. From what I gather this book is seen as a bit more mainstream than JUDE. I don't know. Who decides these things? I read this one just prior to JUDE and wanted another dose of old English country living just like it(as one does!) Instead, with JUDE THE OBSCURE... I got a shaken can of fizzy sadness.
-- I am starting a long Dickens novel I haven't read. I love Charles Dickens so much that I have a lot of trouble reading other writers after I spend time with him. I won't list what I'm reading so no one spoils it for me. I will say this though... 12 pages in and its already *****. Sadly, I am a pretty slow reader so I may not hit the end til August. I think my Zoloft gives me ADD. Ugh.
--I recently bought crisp new copies of WAR AND PEACE by Tolstoy and DON QUIXOTE by Cervantes. They are right over there, at eye level, on our bookshelf. I glare at them twenty times a day, like a kid looking at his unfilled Christmas stocking. They are supposedly two of the greatest novels ever written and I have been eager to hit them up for many years now. I think this is going to be the year. Maybe after I finish A CHRISTMAS CAROL (psyche again!!). Has anyone ever done either opus? Do you think Violet would enjoy one or the other? (See...I always tie in Violet).
--About a year ago I read the novel, THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES BY THE COWARD ROBERT FORD, by Ron Hansen. Brad Pitt starred in the film not too long ago. Let me just say this...one of the best novels I've ever read. Fascinating, riveting, engaging, blah blah blah. I finished it in a German hotel room by myself. For awhile after it ended I sat back on the bed and just fucking stared at the ceiling eating chocolate and drinking Coke Light. The final words of the book zipped around the room for a spell like flies high on dogshit. I'll never forget how sad I felt that night, sad it was all over forever for me. I love that feeling...I feel strangely lucky when it comes.
--I'd love to hear what you might be reading. I don't care what it might be. I bounce around but my favorites are the 19th century novels. Just let me know what you've been devouring... that's all.