Mayday is my favorite holiday, but this year it was a rather trying day for us all.
We picked Delia up from school (she loves Parent Pick-Up) and jetted right to the cinema to watch Wolverine. The experience was completed by a huge bag of disgustingly greasy popcorn and a box of Junior Mints. Delia requested that we purchase them at the theater because it makes her uncomfortable when I buy them at the Dollar Store and smuggle them in in my purse. She says she doesn't want to break the rules, and I have to support her there. Just cause her old Mom is a scofflaw doesn't mean she has to be! The movie was super fun escapist fantasy, and during the parts that scared her we clung together. As far as violence goes, there was plenty of fighting but very little blood, and the only things that really frightened her were the scenes where Sabretooth was hunting down his quarry.
After we shook off our willing suspension of disbelief and filed out into the parking lot, we all began to feel the effects of skipping dinner and eating popcorn and candy instead. The usual footrace to the car ended in "tragedy" when Keith beat Delia there and in the process "broke her fingers." She of course was ok, but the tears were flowing and nerves were ragged. Then to top it off, Keith checked his phone messages and found a summons to C-burg, to visit Donna in the hospital.
My ruminations on the processes of dying are a subject for another entry entirely, but suffice to say that it was a sad visit. We dropped Keith off at the hospital to scope out the situation, and I went on to Sun Valley to drop Delia off in Mom's care (because Donna requested it). And as I pulled into the driveway, the Fairies gave me their gift.
The hillside under the Hickory tree was covered in violets. In the encroaching twilight, the ground was an ephemeral purple - if you looked at it directly it faded to green, but out the corner of your eye the ground glowed an undulating violet. We emerged from the car and were washed in the sweetest fragrance imaginable. It was amazing. I stood there on the patio and just inhaled. Delia ran up the hill and started picking fuzzy dandelions which were so prolific in the back yard they looked almost like snowdrifts. She took handfulls of the flowers and swung them in an arc over her head, surrounding herself in swirling clouds of soft white fuzz. It all lasted only a few moments. The objective of our trip weighed heavily on my mind, and I hurried her inside so I could get on with things.
I don't think I really understood what a gift it was till Keith and I returned around 10 PM, emotionally exhausted from our visit to the hospital. It was dark, but the fragrance was still heavy on the air, and he said "It smells like PEZ out here!" and I laughed. It is a good thing to laugh when your heart is heavy!
The drive home was also a beautiful gift. As we approached Morgantown from the south, a thunderstorm was brewing in the northeast, and the overcast sky was periodically lit up by intense flashes of lightening. This brought the black hills into sharp relief against the phosphorescent clouds, and rivaled any fireworks display humans could have contrived. The rain mercifully held off till we'd gotten a sleepy Delia safely into the house and tucked into her bed. Keith and I sat on the porch as the winds picked up and the rain came at last, whipping in under the roof and dampening us. The storm raged around us as we decompressed and talked about the day's events. It reaffirmed my belief that whatever storm life throws our way, we are each other's shelter. And I am blessed.
Thank you, Fairies, for reminding me of this.
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