Still so much to do.
I have to finish packing my clothes, because going naked on a multi-generational family vacation is not only frowned upon but extremely awkward. Work stuff needs worked on, laundry needs laundered. The dog needs extra special attention before we ship her off to stay with my brother for an entire week. The boys need to pick books and games, even though they’ll argue while picking and then they’ll argue over the picks while we’re there and, really maybe it would be easier if we left all the stuff of aruging at home — except the car ride would be more intolerable with the whining. I need to buy, in no special order: conditioner, tissues for my non-stop runny nose, more sunblock, ear plugs, snacks for the drive. I want to take a quick run despite this infernal cold. I want to sit, to sleep, to already be sitting on the beach in the sun.
I rush around, as I always do, but more so, because there’s so much to do and the time left to do it keeps ticking away. My rushing devolves, as rushing usually does, and I don’t quite get done what I intend to get done. I end up forgetting why I have entered a room or exited the house. I stand on the front porch with the vague recollection that I was going to ask my husband a question… or go to the garage to get something out of the vehicle… or ask the boys to do something… or… something… when I look down.
My dahlia has bloomed its first flower.
I stand, my toes dangling over the edge of the porch, and bend slowly to touch her petals. My breathing, all through my mouth since my nose has left early for vacation this year, slows as I am overcome with the simple beauties of this life. Despite what William Allen White said about women needing to raise more hell than dahlias, I’ve raised a lot of hell in my day. I continue to do so — pushing the envelope and standing firm and being all when I need to be all. Sometimes I just want to sit on the edge of my flower garden and gaze at the beauty springing forth from the Earth. Sometimes I just want to slow down from all of the rushing and the here and the there and smile at the pink and green and yellow and tones in between. Sometimes I just want to stop and give thanks for the small things.
I plan on relaxing more than raising hell this vacation. I plan on looking for more of the beauty. Creating and participating in memories. Laughing and loving and living and eating and drinking and napping and sunning and reading and chasing and jumping in waves and being part of a family. There will be time again for raising hell when vacation ends. This is the time for slowing down. (After tomorrow, that is. One more day to get through!)
