The wedding was scheduled for 4pm on Saturday. The venue was on the lawn by the harbour under the sky. The forecast was wet.
The week had been wet. The month has been wet. The year was wet. As the night receded there was blue as well as grey. Spears of light and promise. Fat clouds danced around yet the sun pushed through and it did not rain. 200 hundred people stood on the lawn in high heeled shoes and bowties. They shielded their eyes from a jubilant afternoon sun. The harbour sparkled and two people held hands in front of their friends and family. It wasn’t raining and it was beautiful.
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The citizen shuffled into the sleeping chamber, his shoulder laden with the work of the day. His labours. The sounds of the city crept into the quiet room, a plasterer next door in the insular, a wagon rattling loudly down the street. Voices. People. Rome.
The lump on his shoulder stirred. She was still awake. Still. Her tiny hand was wrapped around his neck like the talons of a miniature eagle searching for the carotid artery. She clung to him, he held her. She had to sleep. Searching for intervention his mind jumped. Jupiter Optimo Maximus. I hail you by that name or by any other name you see fit. I hail you as either sex and in any form you wish. Grant me this boon. Ease this child into rest and I will offer at your statue in the forum three times before the next market interval. Jupiter Optimo Maximus, best and greatest, grant me this request. This baby must sleep. He eased her down to the mattress, tiny hands continuing to grasp his clothes and neck. She lay still though and he allowed hope to come. He waited in rigid silence and wondered. How many people back through the republic had held themselves like this, quiet and desperate hoping for sleep for their baby? For how many years to come will babies taunt fathers? Is this eternal? Tiny fingers relaxed at his neck. Sleep came for the child. Peace for her father. Jupiter best and greatest. Earth and oil, a fig and coin for their temple thought the father. He walked out of the bedroom and returned to reality. Snapping a quick photo to send to his wife at work, he went downstairs and made a note for the blog. At 6:15am this morning I tried to walk a baby back to sleep. It wasn’t going well, but I kept trying. Optimistic, stubborn or just doing my best? I saw this plant again and for the first time I felt understanding and empathy. It was in a tough spot, good light but limited dirt. The real sting was the water issue. That plant wanted water, all power was being diverted to root production. The water was there, just a little further down. All she needed was 6 more metres of roots and she’d be in business. Optimistic. Stubborn. Doing it’s best?
I walked on, shooshing and patting in rhythm. The baby did not sleep. I was at a pool party for adults one time, it was hot and there was music - people love that stuff. In the middle of the pool was one inflatable li-lo type device, a big clear, air filled mattress. This was popular and before long it was the scene of a near constant game of, how do you say? Queen of the hill. Whenever someone managed to climb and relax aboard the craft, they would be quickly assaulted by another aspirational relaxer and dumped back into the water. Every time I looked at the pool during the hours I was at this party, Kim was battling for the top spot on the ‘hill’. Hours. Kim often stayed over in our spare room. This was great because she is fun, she sometimes collected our unwanted insects and spiders for a uni course and occasionally watched over our dachshunds. The night that we left the house and rushed to the hospital at 4am for a baby to arrive, Kim was already in the house to sit a vigil and feed the hounds. She even put up a welcome home sign. One time I walked through northern Sweden with Kim for 7 days. It was summer so most of the water was bubbling, running, bouncing across the path. There were times though when large chunks of the water lay as snow and ice across the valley. Kim chose these times to express her joyful abandon by climbing on, sliding down, collecting up and hurling the ice. The most appropriate response I believe to this type of behaviour is expressed clearly in the image attached. Whenever you are Kim and whoever you are with, I trust you are battling, watching over and expressing joy.
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AuthorHigh school teacher Archives
September 2023
CategoriesThemes |