This afternoon I went to the dentist for a cleaning and check up. The dental hygienist told me I have superteeth because I remain unstained by my coffee, tea, and red wine habits. I might as well take up smoking since my teeth have decided they are up to the challenge. I was relieved to hear my teeth were doing well because I have bad dreams about my teeth falling out of my head on a regular basis. In my dreams they always start out okay and then start to crumble like a sugar cube when it gets wet, slowly dissolving, crumbling, melting into nothingness, and I spit out the pieces. And dreams and reality have such fine gossamer between. How could I know what to expect? I expected problems, but for the next six months I can find something else to wonder.
After the dentist, I took J shopping for new boots, because teenagers need new boots every winter you know, especially when they share their boot room with a cat that likes to pee on things. I also took her for dinner to celebrate her report card and just to spend time with her because I like her. I really do like her. (I wonder about that kind of thing, the liking; because I have a dark place inside me like an oil spill or an ink stain, because the most beautiful things need an ugly frame to set them off. Because I rarely see myself in any picture, but often in the frame.) But I examine my relationship with her carefully and it passes every test. I love her in ways I do not recognize being loved.
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2 comments:
I think what you are talking about with J is what mothers everywhere discover - a love beyond what you could ever have expected.
Absolutely. She gives me wonderful perspective on what it is to love.
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