Thursday, June 18, 2009

Crazy Climber

Eli's garage is youngster's play land. He's got a killer Pearl drum kit, guitars, a bass and amps. And this climbing wall that leads to a loft. This all makes the post-Lego Camp experience just as fun as the main event.

Scott and Helen hosted our baby shower at their home a little over six years ago. That was a few weeks before we met Pablo. As I type this, it's hitting me how profound it is to be here. How deep our community and close friendships are. How many years and days we've journeyed through; how many speed bumps we've rolled over; how many hills we've crested. Even when we are alone, our friends and our community at large are there, with us, cheering us on. When I say 'we' and 'our,' I mean all of us - in every direction, in every configuration.

Looking across the yard, there are a pair of center-latched French doors that lead into the garage. At our baby shower back in May 2003, my brother Scott, his wife Susan, and my then little niece Isabella stood in front of those doors. Francine took a photo of them. We have looked at that photo exactly a million times since then. It's in the iPhoto files on all our computers. I love that photo, I loved that day, and I love the memory it has preserved.

Eli is two years older than P, and has known him since he was born. Being that the baby shower took place at his residence, he celebrated the coming of his friend's birth along with tons of other friends and family. Eli treats P like a little brother. It's a different energy than Grady and P, because of the age proximity. Seeing these two guys - and Dorrie and Phil's son Isaac when he's here - playing and galavanting around is so simple and so sweet. I love it. We are in the midst of life, and I love it.

Sitting here in the back yard is so beautiful and peaceful. Giant trees shade me from the sun, bird song is coming from all directions and, best of all, I can hear P and Eli playing in the garage. Their little voices are wafting through the calm, quiet Bronson Canyon air. This is the reason people love Los Angeles.

It would be disingenuous if I did not give voice to the much smaller feeling inside me as all this playing and galavanting goes down. That feeling is an aching sadness that runs so deep inside me that I am crying as my thumbs tap the Blackberry letters that spell it. I want this playing and galavanting to last forever. I pray that it can and will.

The fact that I have to call upon the Universe with prayer is evidence of my dilemma. Thankfully, the sad part is the small part.

The moment in front of me is real, and what's in front of me is two boys having fun.

4 comments:

Heather said...

Let the joy and laughter resonate.It helps push down the sadness.Let hope flow freely.It helps dispels the uncertainty.Sending love from Zoey and the rest of the crew,your way.

LYNN said...

Through your words, a moment of time saved forever. You paint such a lovely scene - the peaceful backyard, birdsong in the air, children laughing and having fun. Life is so beautiful...

Anonymous said...

Love love love you guys! I am thinking and praying for P daily, even though I haven't seen you in ages (thankfully). But seriously Jeff, you could've got a pic w/ Johnny for your fav nurse on 4W! :)Love and hugs to Pablo and fam
xoxo Danica
p.s I get it. I totally get it.

Anonymous said...

I relate to your struggle to not be paralyzed by fear and sadness. We try to not let our minds go to those darkest places, we try to take in every rich moment that life grants us, to surround ourselves with the laughter and joys of our children. But I also find that when I can't suppress those emotions any longer, I just have to own them and wait until the storm inside me has passed. Pablo's community is sending love, hope, prayers, good karma.

Molly and Laney Böttcher