Author: lauraanneayres

This year is reflective. Not that you know, it’s all about foxes and a sleepover with tents and twinkly lights. But, inside? I’m reflecting on many things.

I still have Hollye’s service bulletin on my dresser. I can’t put it away. He’s trying to tell me something I can’t hear yet.

Another school shooting this week. Issues with work. Trying to figure out what is right for your educational trajectory and how to afford that. I miss my best friends, your God Squad. Ridiculous email yesterday that may or may not make my hopeful child sad on his birthday. This country’s election feels decisive in a way that inspires and terrifies me. I’m worried about pipes that are old, a roof that could have damage, and other household issues. I mean, what a list.

So, I go back to why I cannot put Hollye’s bulletin away. I think he might just be bringing me light? He brought me light. He made me smile, made me laugh, made me learn. The way he said my name, I still hear it, made me smile and I hear it every morning when I see his name. Maybe it’s that? Joy. Light. When I see his name, I also think of Suz. She also brings me light and joy. I’m not sure if Mr. Fisk thought he was a lightbringer, but he was to me. Just hearing his voice greet me brings me light that cuts through some darkness.

Last night? Instead of feeding darkness about other stuff related to your birthday that you will miss, I put together your birthday tent and sent the picture to Lindy and Cah – light. They were thrilled! I gave them light, they gave me light. Light abounded and darkness was overwhelmed with (literal twinkle) light. I’ve always been able to do that and I am lucky to know lots of people like that (Hollye and Suz are just two).

Guess what? Thankfully, I see the same in you.

About three weeks ago, down the street, next to our neighbors’ (an African American woman and her adult son) home, their neighbors placed a giant “T—p” flag and giant US flags. It is a spectacle and designed to intimidate. That’s the goal and it’s clear. You saw the response this week and were so pleased to tell me, “Momma, they put up their own sign! Go look!” They’d created a handwritted sign, “We Won’t Go Back.” You were so happy. Hate cannot drive out darkness, only love (and I’d argue light) can do that, Barli.

Keep remembering to bring the light AND let others help you bring out the light that is in you, when you feel the darkness surrounding you.

Nur zu.

It’s 8:07PM. You are cuddled in bed. Tonight is a big night because you get to watch “Chasing History,” which is some show about the 76ers and Knicks. I was smiling about Tyrese, so were you (jinxing when we said, “Coach Thomas”. I said he “would love it” and you said “needs to know about this”). #SouthGarlandHS

At dinner tonight, which was a rare night that I needed a night out, at 5:30, to avoid cooking dinner. By the way, I am privileged to remain able to take you to dinner, instead of mixing together the pantry staples…and, I know it.

But, at dinner, we had an interesting conversation. We’d just talked last weekend about your budget (for your allowance money). We’d also talked about expenditures around the house (some of which were due to your affinity for turning any flat surface into a basketball backboard). I mean, finances are tight. Not horribly so, but tight.

I was just about to blurt out, “Kid, let me tell you what it means to be a single mom” when I looked around the playground in front of us. I mean, I’d decided I was finally going to explain all the realities. What it mean that you broke our TV last week. What it meant that you wanted to do all the camps, all the stuff at Parish, that you basically ripped drywall plum off. I mean, I was going to break it ALL down.

But, kids. As per usual, kids. I saw them. Kids. Running around, doing serious stupid shit. One kid was hanging off a swing, from the top!, upside down. I mean, he’s going to the ER someday soon. Another kid was eating something he’d grabbed from the grass. Barfville, USA in 20 minutes. A girl was, I kid you not, climbing up to the top of the climbing thing with a doll in her hand. So, she’s either going to be POTUS or not. But, they are so beautifully unaware, right? In that, in your, innocence is the ability to do a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g.

I think this often, if I just let you all be kids? If I am one of those adults, like Granddaddy, that lets a kid be a kid? Hell. There might be actual learning and growth and creativity and, dare I dream, WONDER. If I just allow you to have a childhood. Which I will always try to do for you and any kid.

Bärli, there is a ton of chaos floating around me. Work is hard. This house is somewhat of a love-able money pit. I worry for the health of my loved ones. You are on a journey that is long. It is a rough time and (day and day out) I’m alone, by choice.

But, a very clear voice called to me, when I was about to share “adult” concerns with you.

Yesterday, I read a letter from a friend, who took time to write to me. She pretty much slapped me across the face and screamed, “STOP DOING THIS ON YOUR OWN, TALK TO ME” in a way that either Godmum or Godmomma would have done, if they were here.

How badly I miss them.

But, she was insistent that I stop holding everything in.

So…I stopped.

I told you the thing I wanted to tell you was that I loved you and everything would be okay. I made a mental note to remember that my friends are here to listen to everything that is tough and I neither need to hold it all in nor do I need to hold it in my shoulders (which literally tilt to one side now). They are here.

You are not.

Because YOU are a child. You need to deal with, as Kristina says, “child-size” portions of information. You have to be fed information you can balance with the fear of pooping your pants (not your current fear, but one of your buddies did it last week at school), making sure the kids don’t ask questions you don’t want to answer about your private life (c), being cool, having hair that looks like Grant’s, and knowing you are heading to the NBA. I mean, that’s it, right? Because you’re 7.

So, I thought tonight, let’s let him be 7. Just like he was allowed to be 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Just like when Godmum was with us and we were living with Lindy and we were around Godmomma. Lean on. my friends because they are here with us.

And, you be a kid.

I’ve got you.

Always.

Bärli,

This simple, profound collection of words came to me from your Godpoppa, in 2016. He has always been my soul’s brother – connected to a deep part of my inner self and I am connected to his. He sent me these words as a lifesaver in the midst of an intense tempest storm, before your birth. My recollection is that he made this supplication everything I needed: short for ease of repetition, sacred for immediate connection to God and Mother Mary, and soothing [for the breath pattern – breathe in God, breathe out the reminder – allowed oxygen to balm my panicked brain].

God of time and space…remind me this is temporary.

In a fascinating and somewhat surprising turn of events, the Godpoppa Prayer has become something else for me lately. I’m unclear if this is the turning of the clock, which turns for us both my love, or if this is the roar of the hustle & bustle of being a professional in my career field and a single mother? I only know that this prayer has become a centering reminder for me that you are a small child for only so long. That I am receiving cuddles and only the occasional, “you’re the worst mom in the world” (which I know you do not mean) for now only. My own development as a person has allowed me the space to live in the moment and to see that there is beauty or pain or a growth or something to learn or any of a myriad of possibilities in every experience. Just as these bad moments are temporary? So, too, are the good moments, those flashes that are pure and full of wonder. I want to grab it all.

God of time and space…remind me this is temporary.

Your birthday morning recreated a scene from 2016 with a few alterations in the tableau. Lindy, PopPop, and Momma were together, just as we were on the day you were born; but, you were there, greeting a new year of life with your beautiful spoken words and laugh. We, the four of us, were not in a hospital in the land of mountains and lakes, rather enjoying the comfort of our home in the land of stars and stripes. Transfiguration, indeed.

God of time and space…remind me this is temporary.

It is the perfect prayer.

Amen.

Bärli,

It’s a strange time in the year. I feel aware of the nearness of Father’s day. For us both.

Many fathers are chosen – not only created by birthright.

Some relationships are started on genetics, on “family ties.” You have many of those, too. I do, as well, and we are both lucky to have those ties. There are many iterations of “father/son” relationships and you are doing well, my little one.

Some are chosen when they make you a priority every day, and many weekends, teaching you things from how to “go potty with manners” to how to nail the perfect hook shot to how to hammer a nail to to how to ride a bike. #TheOGDadDM

Some are chosen when they make you their love, their object of devotion. #STA #amen

Some are chosen when they coach you about basketball or baseball or Jiu Jitsu or swimming or tennis or life – day in, day out. “You can be the best player there this week.” “Henry is competitive and wants every ball, but he also wants to make sure every teammate is helped up off the ground.” “Oh, Henry’s your kid? Yep, that Henry…he’s quite a baller.” #JDM #CM #TL #CM #Machado #Kyle #GV #CoachEdge

Some are chosen when they teach you a cool “just between us” high five. This is a first for you and something that healed the lost ‘you didn’t get the shoulder rides like other kids’ that killed me, as your mom. #CD

Some are chosen when your face darkens and says, “I don’t want him to leave,” because he’s the guy that held you in his hand. #TheDude

Some are chosen when they take a train, fly in a place, sit in a car, and then step out of the car to play the promised basketball game. Furthermore, these fathers sit with you (when you are crying on your mom’s bed because they are leaving) and tell you “it’s strong to cry.” They also cry when they are leaving you at the airport. #FD

Some are chosen when they spend time in BBQ joints and in a variety of sports venues showing you that you matter. #JH

Some grandfathers are chosen when they play games with a mailbox slot for 20 minutes just to elicit a laugh. #Bop

Some grandfathers are given & chosen when they hold your hand and whisper, “I was in this very place many years ago,” in downtown Dallas, after traveling thousands of miles.#AD

Some grandfathers are given & chosen when they hold you, freshly-born, and whisper, “Welcome to our family, little boy,” in Switzerland, after traveling thousands of miles. #RJA

Father’s Day is a day to celebrate these men. To celebrate the people identifying as male and recognize that you identify with them, for now.

I am the eternal worrywart, a genetic trait from your great grandfather, and I’ll always wonder what else I can do to make the joy in your life fuller, healthier, more robust, more authentic, and lasting. It’s my wish for all the children in my life. How do I help to do that or help to enable that?

Here’s one answer that is clear to me, as I stare down the dreaded Father’s day: take a breath.

They’ve got you.

Bärli,

You have started to learn some poetry and songs connected to our nation’s patriotic heritage. You were fairly beguiled by the song, “Grand Ol’ Flag,” which was one of my least favorite (no offense intended), thus I needed to introduce you to the plethora of words and wisdom that make the Americana catalogue.

Three reasons for your deeper interest in Veteran’s day this year: talking about it at school, understanding more about Daniel’s veteran status, and brief conversations about the Bassetts last year (and more this year). You are starting to understand the sacrifice it takes to secure peace…or the appearance of peace…for our nation and our citizens.

Thus, we are listening to the Greatest National Anthem of All (a.k.a. Whitney’s version) on repeat this weekend. You’ve just had me sing the Star Spangled Banner, as you started your basketball practice outside (sorry neighbors, can’t turn off the opera when I have a beautiful line).

I’ll tell you, you got my heart remembering how much is good about the US. Just because we sometimes focus on that which divides, WE are not divided. Whether it’s a Hot Wheels Monster Truck Rally, a Dallas Stars game, or our backyard – we are united by this beautiful, grand ol’ flag, aren’t we? Those of us that believe in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for all people, we are blanketed together, in reds, blues, and whites. Neither “side” owns the flag – we all do. Just as Lady Liberty welcomes all to our shores, the flag serves to inspire us all to create a more perfect union.

When people like Granddaddy or Pop or Daniel or the Bassetts sign up to serve our country and to protect our democratic republic, we are further united. There is much to fear, there is much to regret, there is much work to be done; but, the bright stars and broad stripes represent that which unites us is far greater than that which divides us. That which was hard won in perilous fights by our ancestors at home and abroad should remind us that democracy is fragile, but resolve is strong.

Just as I felt last year, when you drew your picture for B&K, I felt grateful to my child for reminding me that better angels will always prevail.

God bless the United States of America.

Bärli,

You are ruminating about all-day school.

You told me you were going to find your way home, if I left you at school.

You told me you wouldn’t be able to eat your lunch because you would be crying.

Last night, you woke yourself up, crying, and came in the room telling me “I am so scared to be without you for the whole day, what will I do?” I told you to go get Cuddle Bear and while you did that? I looked up at the ceiling and got my own tears under control.

God, I get it. You are a COVID kid. Even your first go at school was interrupted, time and time again, by outbreaks or precautions or quarantine. You don’t know what this is like. It’s been a very strange introduction to the real world, for kids that were born in the years just before 2019. Rarely do I have the golden solution, but I did last night: “Let’s call Kermit.”

We’d discussed what happened to me on my first day of Kindergarten. I met my classmates, one of whom has remained so dear to my heart that I cry, when he cries. I celebrate, when he celebrates. It’s not even just him, it’s his family. They suffer? I suffer. They laugh, I laugh. It all started in Kindergarten.

Knowing now that he answered his phone during a dinner date, with your Godmother Elizabeth, makes last night even more special.

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

I guess he always calls kiddos “buddy?” I don’t know, I just know he calls you “buddy.” You love it when he calls you “buddy.” You love it so much, you asked me to start referring to you as “buddy.”

So, I told him what was going on. “Your Mommy and I met when we started Kindergarten, so you never know who you might meet.” This started a calming process. After you talked to Kermit, we hung up.

Today, still nervous. I’m talking about me, not you. You are great now. You were starting to think about if L* might be your best friend this year or if it would still be G*. I mean, you are ready now.

But, I’m worried. I’m worried you are too prepared (reading really well, writing so beautifully, spelling some tough words, adding and subtracting a bit, you know where Japan is on a map for pity’s sake) and you’ll be bored. I’m worried I’ll send my kid to school and then the school will get locked down and I’ll absolutely lose my s**t. I’m worried some kid will tell you you’re weird because you don’t have a dad around. Mainly? I’m worried to not have you in my eyesight.

I think about it all. I know Pop Pop and Lindy didn’t worry about gun violence or the whitewashing of history or relegation of “the arts” to an hour a week. I wonder what you will worry about one day and I pray to God, I pray to GOD, we have stopped this insanity.

My beautiful boy, I pray our collective humanity will be greater than the chaos, greater than the fear-driven politics of the far right, greater than the delusion of the far left. Most of us just want to live better, kinder, safer. Whether we are black, white, rich, poor, college-educated, street smart, tall, short, foreign, or American; so, I sincerely pray and follow-through with my vote that we will find our way to a future that is worthy of you and the kiddos I’ve coached. Most of us just want…to send our kids to school and not worry. We want it to be better for you all, better for your kids, better for us all.

We want to worry about whether or not you ate all your lunch, or if you just ate the “yummy stuff.”

We want to worry about the spelling test and if you nailed the word “lighthouse” or not.

We want to worry about if you got to be the Line Leader, like you’d hoped.

We want to worry about if your new shoes felt as comfortable at the end of the school day, as they did when you wore them to school. The girl with the green shoes and the heart in Uvalde…so, there we go. Back to what you’ll face when you have your first active shooter drill. There’s the worry of today’s reality, for parents. It’s not some abstraction, it’s real. It can happen to me or any other parent (Sandy Hook Promise).

So, as you are sleeping and feeling better, I’m working through my own fears and keeping it real, away from you. It’s okay for me to feel nervous and there is no Kermit that will make that better, just me.

Glad I have independent thinking, my faith, and my vote. I believe that we will make it through this time that is filled with far too much worry.

Bärli,

Here is something I never thought I would say: today, a majority of Supreme Court Justices ruled based on religious zealotry. I knew it was coming, but knowing they did it without shame? It was a bit shocking to me. I have idolized so many SCOTUS Justices and Chiefs. To be frank: I think I loved the Supreme Court most of all. I loved what it was capable of providing for the United States and the world. Truly. At one point, I wanted to be a Con Law expert, then eventually a teacher.

Not anymore.

Today was awful because I felt personally betrayed on behalf of hundreds of years of belief in SCOTUS. After decades of plotting, these 6 Justices finally did what a group wanted them to do: impose theocracy on the United States. But, we are not a theocracy and religious beliefs have no place in the Supreme Court.

Adulting is hard and I had to work. I had things to do today. You needed me to be your mom. You won an award at your Tennis Academy this morning, which was a massive deal for you. I had responsibilities for big projects at work. I needed to be on-site for Parisa. I couldn’t do what I wanted to do, which was watch the news and feel shock & awe. See people reflecting how I felt for hours and hours. I wanted to do that and had to settle for an occasional search for an org provided aid and a small donation (not wealthy).

You went to sleep tonight and I stopped hitting “donate” and started organizing. “Can you join the march at 00:00 in your city?” and “What about driving 30 minutes to a march in XYZ and I’ll shoot you directions” and “Let me know how many people and I’ll get them there.” Mid-afternoon, I’d watched a colleague lead a meeting, knowing her daughter was probably sleeping in the other room. All I could think was, “my real work starts when Bärli goes to sleep.”

Her daughter is months old. My hope is that we fix this abuse of the public trust (this abuse was actually committed by Republican members of the Senate), before my colleague’s daughter might need healthcare.

Because that is what reproductive options are for a woman: basic healthcare.

The reasons a woman needs what is legally deemed an “abortion” are so vast they range from “life saving” to personal decision. I mean, the idea that a woman will now be potentially required to prove her miscarriage was not self-induced? Where am I?

Anyway, you want heroes? I saw them on TV tonight, between calls. They are fighting back tears (Rachel Maddow, Mommy’s favorite, showed up on a Friday night…you know shit is going down) and giving us the information we need to mobilize.

If nothing else, hear this message from this post: do NOT sit on the sidelines. Mommy is not having more babies; but, you know who will be adversely impacted by laws and decisions like this one? Underprivileged, unemployed, unseen, underage, women and girls, mainly of color. Injustice in a nutshell. When you see injustice, do not sit still. Help, where you can and in a peaceful way. As the sign says in your room, “You have two hands: one to help yourself and one to help others.” Get off the sidelines and do something.

Another colleague today said something that struck my core. She was talking to a group and said, “Laura and I can tell you, pregnancy is not easy.” God, she is speaking absolute truth. Many pregnancies genuinely require abortions, in early weeks, to allow the mother to live. Others get into urgent situations that are truly life-threatening, even if the fetus is aborted. Women in abusive relationships, women unable to provide for the children they have, women struggling to make ends meet, women who do not want to be mothers, women who are raped, women who are abused, women whose family members see them as appropriate sexual partners…I mean, the list goes on and on.

And…our healthcare workers. Please, imagine a doctor being unable to save a patient, when the doctor knows the fetus is not viable and the patient will die. Life in prison?

It’s 2022.

I don’t know where I live today, but I know my feet can march, my fingers can hit “donate,” and my delicate female brain is working. So, keep calm and bugger on I shall.