Monday, June 14, 2010
Another gray dawn, which promises to bring the rain that held off all day yesterday. Graduation day was perfect - gorgeous weather, houseful of wonderful, caring friends and family for graduation day breakfast, happy event.
There really wasn't time for sentiment. Then - everybody was gone.
A, R, and N left for home in Connecticut. T flew in a flurry to "project grad," an all night, chem free event for the graduates. Mom and Dad said their good byes and went on their way. J and I and my mother-in-law had a quiet house to ourselves.
This morning I went to do my morning exercise routine in A's room as usual. I stretched out on her tousled sheets and was flooded by the familiar scent of my eldest daughter. Almost too distracting to get through those torso twists. I had just been similarly struck by the scent of a loved one when I went to retrieve something from my parents' car. I opened the door and there I was, immersed in reminiscence of my mother.
Some might find it weird that I talk about how people smell. But just like any animal, each human has their own aroma - some better, some worse, some potent, some faint. Most of us have noticed it though - when we borrow someone's sweatshirt and pull it over our heads, or step into their closet, or open their suitcase. And who hasn't buried their nose against the silky hair of a baby?
A lot of the time we notice it subliminally. It puts thoughts in our heads, but we don't even realize that it has happened. Suddenly we're filled with the warm glow of feeling loved, or of loving, or of longing for something gone by.
The blackbirds were at their usual posts - warning me away from their nest. And I got my closest view yet of the beautiful bobolink, trying to lure me away from his nest in the fields. Their birdish efforts to protect their young felt particularly poignant to me this morning. I honor their efforts. It is a worthy occupation. My own young are fledged, I want to tell them. It's worth all the trouble.