The Corner

-
Here we sat.

We were diligently working on the Minnie Mouse puzzle for the umpteenth time. The monotony of the pieces coming together and trying, once more, to teach my daughter what "the corner" meant.  And when it didn't resonate, I echoed in Spanish "... En la esquina, dulcita" to which she responded in kind "en la a'kina?"

She still didnt understand as I lightly touched the edges of the chest-turned-coffee table centered on our family room floor. Mira. 

Corner. Esquina. Corner. Esquina.

She reached for the center and confidently touched the table while saying "a'kina"!?

I smiled.  Too weary to continue with a lesson that could wait, the fatigue of a nightly run washed over me.

The run was short.  6 miles trying to beat the sunset washing over the horizon of a warmly lit desert landscape.  

I was in love.

Do you remember what it was like to fall in love? 

I fell in love with each step that raced against the dark night sky that wanted to capture me in a moonlight glow.

I fell in love with the sunshine waving its goodbye as stars begged for a peak at the runnners, walkers and bike riders who had long awaited this cool, still, hour.

I fell in love, once more, with this transitional time. And though we had been in love in our own ways, many times and many years over, it was like I was falling in love all over again.

I can't remember anything like it.

I felt unburdened. 

And it was the only thought that raced in my mind as I raced home to greet the evening. 

I felt unburdened.

I can't explain it, fully.

Perhaps there was freedom in that transition from day to night. It could have been the need and desire to get away, to get outside, to get alone, to get weightless, unhindered by the corners that can be so confusing.

I am like a confusing corner piece, aren't I? 

It seems clear just where I belong, to everyone that sees all the pieces laid out.  And yet it is in the angle I find myself torn between two sides, both equally befitting and yet I am certain to be a more obvious fit to one side than the other.

I might be just as confused as my daughter. 

Corner. Esquina. Corner. Esquina.

One day, we'll figure it out. 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Dear Bobby"

-
Image
"Dear Bobby, I love you. I always look forward to when my husband leaves for work, and you sneak into bed with me. Sometimes, you will wake me up, but usually, you just lie there next to me waiting for my eyes to open." Bobby. You are a cat. But you are the cat of all cats. Unliked some others whose names I will not mention.... you like being a cat. You are my original Obi Kenobi... But you don't like your name and insist I call you "Bobby" or "Bob". You are my predator. You can catch anything- including a rabbit almost twice your size. I remember the time you brought a baby possum into our home. I had just awakened and sleepily headed to use the bathroom when, peering from inside the toilet, was a little possum begging to be released. You cheeky bastard, Bobby. That poor possum. I scolded you and you just turned the other whisker, as if to say "look lady... I am a cat, that's how I do...." The other cats beg for forgiveness when ...
Read More

The Good Dancer: A Dating Story

-
Image
I once dated a really good dancer. That wasn't his only strength. In truth, he was one of thee absolute best dudes I ever made out with.  He was super funny, smart and we clicked right away. But what struck me as odd was that, for the first time before and since, his good dancing skills didn't turn me off.  (For some reason, a man with too much swagger on the floor has always confused and frightened me a little.)  Oh, and I also don't like when they are so involved in their dancing that they forget you are on the floor with them.  Oh, and when they A. crowd you or B. use you as a prop.  Oh, and when they sing along to songs by female artists.  If you know all the lyrics to "I'm a Slave for You", that's both impressive and embarrassing. (I really did have strange deal-breakers with men...) So here was the first guy who I enjoyed dancing with that was actually a really good dancer.  He didn't crowd.  He didn't sweat profusely.  H...
Read More

Degree

-
Image
It was on Friday night. We laughed a lot, perhaps made delirious by the sweet smell of men that were familiar-yet-elusive and desirable. It could have been the wine,  it could have been the great company of old friends and conversations and shared opinions with other women. I disagreed with Ariel more than once, though... "Too sweet" or.... "smells like a jelly bean...." The ones I couldn't put down were the ones that smelled like a man's deodorant, hidden among 75+ samples that scattered in baskets around the coffee table. There we sat around a table full of scents as we sampled the fragrances from a friend's Scentsy collection, eager to fill out our order forms for the smells that would soon promise to envelop our homes. I opted for the "Iced Pine" option, which always reminds me of the home I have not yet lived in and lingered around the fragrances that smelled of citrus and orange peels.  The idea of the smell of "Orange...
Read More