I am in the doghouse.
I just hope that you realize I never planned things to go this way.
Nor, of course, did I plan for it.
The physical therapist has new exercises for me. It remains difficult for me to control some of the movement of the bad leg. She has me hanging on to it with a thera band.
"This is like flying a kite," I tell her as I struggle to keep it from wandering off. She immediately starts laughing, and then stops.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't laugh at you not being able to control the movement."
"Why not?" I ask. "I'm laughing."
"Because you are not normal," AT tells me in her philosophical voice.
And I smile because that comment is so normal.
"You have so much music," says the son. "Suggest something I should listen to."
I click on a song and am transported back to my childhood bedroom, dimly lit, with the radio on. I click on another and think of the friend who gave me the album.
"It's so angry," the son remarks.
"A lot to be angry about," I point out.
"Mashed potatoes or biscuits?" I ask the daughter.
"Biscuits," she says firmly.
"Mrow, mrr, mrowr, mroar, cao," the cat announces.
"No, you just ate," I tell him.
I tell my friend and neighbor C. that the daughter has been accepted to the arts high school.
"That's great!" C cries. and high fives the daughter. "But I guess that means no more walking to school."
And with a small sadness, I realize that she is right.
"PB and I are the only ones who have gone to school there since JK," exclaims the daughter. "That's 10 years!"
In a moment, the years come rushing in: the feisty 4-year-old who didn't want to leave the sandbox, room mother ad infinitum, the sweet first grade teacher, planning events with other mothers who became friends and who are now long gone, the teachers I've gotten to know.
This moment in time.
It belongs to you.
It belongs to me.
It is the secret intersection where lives meet unexpectedly, where amazing things can happen, quietly or explosively.
I didn't plan for that either. But I'm not giving it up.
Go listen to some good music: "Jig of Life" from the album Hounds of Love by Kate Bush.