Kids, No Chaser

This Modern Life

Friday, April 11, 2008 posted by Henri

modernlife

I kissed my son goodnight and he was two years old. And I awoke the next morning, and he was gone. And in his place stood a three year old and I smiled and wished him happy birthday. And the son I knew, the one who was two, I realized that I had kissed him for the last time the night before, and I would never get to see him again.

"Im Treeees?!"

Yes son, you're three.

I am a broken record, with a limited repertoire. I'm like rainman. My brain is a Tyco slot car. I come back and back and back again to this crazy life and how beautiful it is in all its madness and glory and like a damn firefly its ephemeral nature gives us so little time to try and understand it before it's too late.

I miss my two year old. I love my new three year old. And I have a crazy insane gigantic beast of a girl who is now one. Beautiful fierce and mighty J.

And it's happening too fast. I have to love faster.

As a younger man I often wished for faith. I thought it would be nice to have some sort of religion. It was something even worth praying for...which made no sense. Dear almighty higher being...um give me some faith cuz I don't believe in you, but I'd like to....It would make my life a bit more organized. Kinda like smoking. In college I really really wished for the desire to quit smoking. I thought if only I had the faintest desire to quit smoking maybe I would quit. But the fact of the matter was...I really had no desire whatsoever to ever ever ever ever ever stop smoking. Forget it. But I did want to want to quit. I just didn't want to quit.

So I made my way through this life with this absent minded prayer somewhere in the back of my head for some faith to arrive one day. I once thought something was waiting for me in Big Sur. I was absolutely sure of it....so I hopped in the car and drove up from the Westside. I sat there in Big Sur. And sat. And sat. And sat. And sat some more. Nuthin. I did have a nice sandwich up there...there was that.

And another time I thought there was something waiting for me in New Mexico. It took me 8 years to finally have a reason to drive there and away I went. I discovered to my dismay that it was a waitress with soft eyes that was waiting for me there...but she seemed to not quite comprehend her importance in my karmic life. I had pie.

So all of this has somehow led to the fact that I love empty Sunday mornings. I have this magical device that I feed electricity to and it feeds me John Coltrane. And it's Sunday morning and there is absolutely nothing on the agenda for the day. And it's ass early, like 7:00am and it's spring and the sun is out already and my coffee is strong, hot, and blacker than the devil's pupils. And my hair is an absolute mess and I'm wearing my lucky shorts, and the kids are still asleep (t-minus 5 minutes) and I'm just reaching for a 20 lb cast iron pan to cook a breakfast that could kill NinjaDad.

And I realize that this moment holds all that I need from this world. And my wife is asking why I'm smiling and I'm asking her why she's asking and Coltrane is none the wiser.

Coltrane+Sunday_Morning+Springtime+Breakfast+Kids+Wife+Bacon+Bacon+Bacon = Grace.

So somewhere along this haphazard journey, seeking the fear of god to finally awaken in me, I did find a knack for appreciating this wacky world we walk. That thing in your brain that lets things wear off, that lets you get used to stuff; I don't think it fires on all cylinders for me. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see the end of my life and I make a dying wish to be given a bit more time...a day more, an hour more, a minute more even, to just say I love you to this crazy stupid world...and I open my eyes to realize that I have been granted that moment, and if I'm lucky maybe even a moment more. And I say rad.

So on that night, when I kissed my son goodnight, I took the time to close my eyes and make my dying wish to go back again to that moment when I was young and my son was only two, and I could hold him in my arms and lift him high and kiss him again. And I opened my eyes and saw his two year old smile and I knew with my entire heart what I was saying goodbye to. And I realized then that grace might have indeed found me, and perhaps in some karmic way, my prayers had been answered long ago.

rad.

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6 Comments:

Blogger christina said...

wow, you say for yourself but for me too where I couldn't find the words to convey THOSE exact same feelings...ok, maybe one or two less bacons. But I hear ya, I look at Baby Girl who is no longer a baby but a toddler, well...some would argue that she is a little girl already at 3 but I disagree. 3 is still a toddler, tell me it's a toddler. But she is a fierce toddler with with opinions, quirks, and just about the most heavenly face I lay my eyes upon. Thank you for putting into words what I couldn't do for my own sentiments about my own child.
christina

11:52 PM

 
Anonymous Dan said...

Beautiful.

1:30 AM

 
Anonymous peachboy said...

Now yer talkin'.

2:11 AM

 
Blogger Rattling The Kettle said...

That's very sweet.

But I want to hear more about the sandwich.

5:00 AM

 
Blogger Henri said...

Big Sur Luncheonette: Looking for God and Finding a Sandwich, A Novella by Crappy McWriterpants

Damn it it was supposed to all be here. I got ocean and misery, castigated debris of some Steinbeckian wet dream as teenagers cavort flexing their youth and as quickly as it slips from me I blindy chase their scraps of bravado and chunks of belief that tomorrow holds no death for them. Shit it's all I got. Better put it on my sandwich. All I can do since I ran out of ketchup long long ago.

The End

9:20 AM

 
Blogger LN said...

hey stop making me cry.
ps i started a bloggie
smellen

2:30 PM

 

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