I'll Be Right Here

Walking Lilly to school this morning, we had 15 minutes to get there and I think that’s enough, I can’t remember what the time is that is the YOU CAN’T MAKE IT time, I think 15 is okay. Gotta stop driving the three blocks to school, it’s messing with my memory of how long it takes to walk. But driving saves us those precious 5 minutes to get her shoes on and yell at her.

Which is why we’re walking, and we have to take Becky because when Bess is putting her shoes on by the hatrack (which we just call “The hats”),Becky has learned to find her leash hanging on the hats and jump up and pull it down, her way of asking if she can come. A smart puppy.

So my arm is getting yanked out of my socket as we take Becky, but Lilly decides we should skip on the dirt parts and run on the driveways, so we skip and run and Becky leaps around like a circus seal, and Lilly balances on the garden ties that border our path, and sometimes I forget to look at her because walking is so much listening, and feeling – the dog tugging, theteachingthe dog not to tug, the anger at the dog, the wondering if we’re going fast enough, the dogs we pass barking in their prison gates along the way, Lilly talking about red ants and where are they, she didn’t see the where we usually see them. And I have a minute where I actually look at her face and forget what I’m doing after I drop her off, my free time where I’ll go out to the creek with the horse after three days of fumigating our kitchen and being knee deep in boxes, cleaning, putting things away, throwing things away, everything finally in order.
But there is her little floating face, bright white face with the white hair and the ribbons in her braids, and her blue shorts and she has the most perfect teeth and she talks to me, her shoes on the path, and I get to be her mom, the one thing I know for sure means something. The walking, everyday, the feeding the homework, the picking up, the teeth brushing, the putting to bed, the deciding who gets candy when, the driving places, this girl is here just walking along with me because routine means everything. Routine means safety, and walking together means time together, and this is how you build love. You think it’s ice cream, going to get ice cream feels more powerful than this because it’s all decorated with excitement and sugar, but really this is the love right here on the dirt path in her tennis shoes, on Monday, at 7:49 a.m.
Who knew you could find love right where you’re walking. All that work and then you stop and you can just see it, what you built. All the noise falls away and it’s just there, as basic as Cream of Wheat. Is love that ordinary. It’s just woven in there and waiting for you to notice it.
With these kids life is going 100 miles an hour and yet I’m dressed badly and I never get anywhere. And yet I feel like the wind is blowing in my face as I hurtle through time. And at Costco there is Halloween stuff and Christmas stuff and I already feel like what if everything starts happening at the same time, and is this city life or kid life or is this just life now.
Lilly and I hop from one sidewalk square to the next as the bell rings and I kiss her whole face and she says see you after school mom, and she walks through the gate looking back and I say
I’ll be right here.