Thursday, June 10, 2004

One of those moments.

So, my parents showed up at my house last night. From out of state. A week early. To surprise me. Boy, was I ever surprised. I was playing on the computer. Well, looking out the open door to the front porch with a rocks glass of bourbon, smoking, and thinking about whether actually eating dinner was worth the effort it would take to whip up something creative out of the condiments that are the lonely occupants of my refrigerator. And they pull up and turn into my driveway. All I could think was..."ummm, this looks kind of bad."

I got to sit up late with them and gossip about my siblings.

When I woke up this morning (at around 4:30--which I habitually do in order to have a couple of uncluttered writing hours while I'm fresh) my mom got out of bed, too. She puttered around and made coffee while I was trying to adjust to having a human being moving around my house when I just wanted to write, and think, and wake up. And she wanted to talk to me.

And why not? She just drove a thousand miles for that very reason. So I closed down the piece I was working on, and sat on the porch in the dawn with my mother. We watched birds at the feeders in the yard, and drank coffee. I don't even remember what we talked about.

It was one of those moments, you know? And when I lose my mother to illness or accident or Alzheimer's, I hope that this morning is a clear memory. Just the feeling of it all. The companionable silences, the flavor of coffee, the damp chill of a pacific northwest morning. I hope I can remember every second.

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