Just Once
Just one I knew what life was for.
In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood;
walked there along the Charles River,
watched the lights copying themselves,
all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening
their mouths as wide as opera singers;
counted the stars, my little campaigners,
my scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love
on the night green side of it and cried
my heart to the eastbound cars and cried
my heart to the westbound cars and took
my truth across a small humped bridge
and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home
and hoarded these constants into morning
only to find them gone.
I have always loved this poem. The brief encounter with what seems, if only for a moment, to be truth. The truth of living that speaks to us, or at least to me, in whispers, in passing, so quietly and suddenly-- my hope is I hear it, that it touches me and I will know, even briefly, as Anne Sexton so beautifully writes, "... what life is for..."
The past few days have been incredibly challenging, for Tessa. She had a fever last week, then a cold and some other stuff happening. Her temper tantrums reached a shattering level. A few a day. She would rally and soften and go about her playing and working but last night, trying to put her pajamas on, I felt so angry with her. I was angry because she was so angry. She was thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling. She does not want to wear diapers to bed. Last week one of her diapers chaffed her leg so she won't wear those. Brian and I have been scrambling to find something she will wear to bed. Nothing is working.
In order to give myself a moment to collect myself, I put her in her room, hysterical. I took some breaths and after a few moments opened the door. She had stopped crying and was simply staring at me. Brian offered to read stories to her, she didn't look at him, kept her eyes on me.I knew she was expecting something of me. I handed Teagan to Brian, took Tessa in my arms, pulled her close, her head at my heart. I spoke to her words I can remember my mother speaking to me.
"Tessa," I said, "I love you, I always always love you. I do not like when you kick me or hit me or push me away when I am putting on your pajamas. I love you, but I do not like that behavior. And you are so big, you don't have to cry when I put on your pajamas. You are so big and strong and loving and smart and you don't need to cry when I put on your diaper for night time."
In huffing sobs, she agreed, "Yes...Tessa big.. Tessa no like cry with pajamas...Mama sad too."
I held her for several minutes and we repeated the same dialogue. Back and forth.
Tonight, Tessa decided to wear a dress from her closet instead of pajamas. She also asked to wear underwear instead of a diaper. I put her in "training underwear" with a plastic diaper cover over it. I nursed Teagan to sleep while Tessa built a bed for her stuffed animals. Then Tessa and I went into her room. She was joyous despite having had no nap. She climbed onto my lap, we read 3 stories and turned the lights off. No whining or asking to get water or go pee or telling me she was hungry. Just delight. She stopped me mid sentence and put her hand on my cheek.
"Mama... Thank you."
"For what Tessa?"
"For good day, Mama."
"You're welcome."
“Thank you, Mama. Tessa go to park… Libby and Cate and Toshy. Tessa go to Nana's house. Colleen came to Nana's house for lunch. Tessa ate black chips (blue tortilla chips) and good salad for lunch. Tessa go to Colleen's house. Mama come too. Teagan come too. Alain come home, Tessa and Teagan take a bath and Alain come home. Tessa has good day. Thank you Mama. Mama?"
"Yes, Tessa?”
“Thank you. Tessa no have to cry for pajamas.”
Just once I knew what life was for....
