When our cell phones starting buzzing today with a tornado warning because a funnel cloud was spotted a few miles away, I was sure I was going to die. I completely freaked out, but only on the inside. On the outside I snapped at the kids to get into the hallway, I dragged mattresses there to cover ourselves with, I quizzed Lou about tornado safety as I goggled that very topic to refresh my own memory. I told them not to worry, I told them that everything will be OK.
On the inside I prayed to a god I'm not sure that I believe in anymore. I worried about my legacy. I suffocated on the fact that I have done so very little. I wondered if it would be quick. I imagined myself hunched over the kids, "hold on," I told myself. I hoped that the people who love me would make granny squares out of sock yarn so that my kids would still get one afghan each at the end of the year. I have promised them that.
Finally, looking at Trixie who is laying on her back mumbling to herself, I snapped back into the present.
What do you want your last moments to be like, I asked myself, what should you leave them with. I tried to think of some quote to share with them but all I could think of was, "life is a sexy little dance, and I like to take the lead" from the opening credits of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I wanted to share Anais Nin's assertion that "life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage," because I want my kids to be brave. I couldn't think of the Nin quote so I went simple.
"Let's play a game while we wait."
And we played a round robin alphabet game that Hambone suggested and I looked at their faces and just felt happy to be there, with them, in that moment.
Yay! I'm still here.
No comments:
Post a Comment