And Time: Hold Back Your Restless Hands, And Those Of Us Who Wait. And I….

(Carfax Abbey, “Evisceration”)

Fi is eating cheese slices and laughing. “They’re so thin!” She exclaims. Only she pronounces it “fin”with her baby voice. I know it’s normal and she’ll grow out of it but at this moment I love it more than anything. She has a certain Paris Hilton-ish-ness about her, an adorable baby voice she uses in front facing situations and a real voice at home. Her real voice is deeper and sassy, a full preview of the tween she is growing into.

I told a friend yesterday that my life changed when my kids were able to put on their own snow gear. I’ve forgotten a lot but I remember the year S was 4 and Fi was 2 and I thought I would lose my mind getting them dressed and undressed, dressed and undressed. It was 2020, my addiction was eroding me, and I just wanted to stop this hideous cycle of dressing and undressing my children, little wet wiggly dolls.

This morning they were out the door before I woke up.

That is beautiful and correct and necessary. And yet my heart got tight when I realized they weren’t going to ask me to come sledding.

I’m thinking about time lately. Not abnormal this time of year, my 20 year wedding anniversary and my 46th birthday and my 4th sober anniversary 1,2,3 all within a 10 day span next month. Normal.

And yet.

You can’t form memories in a blackout, but there was plenty of time where I wasn’t. Where I was just young or spun or drunk or stupid, or any combination of the above. I was listening to Evisceration in preparation for writing this (sometimes yes, sometimes no, depending) and a memory dumped itself on me like cold water.

15 years ago, B was worried that I was becoming a liability. I knew too many of his secrets so he invented some of mine. I was furious, shaking with rage, and like a proper passive aggressive asshole I posted the lyrics to this song, dedicated to him. He never spoke to me again. There may have been more to it, but this is what I remember. And mourn. Now I think about how excited I was to see him at that club in Vegas, a little bit of home 3000 miles away. I don’t know where he ended up, but I hope he’s happy.

And time keeps rolling us on.

My Christmas tree is still up. My heat is broken. The kids are still not back at school. Time feels spongy, like gravity isn’t holding it properly. I mentioned the other day that gravity should be stronger than it is and no one understands why it isn’t. Maybe that’s what’s happening, some dice player of titan bothering to make an observation and changing the fundamental fabric of our reality.

Or maybe i’m just tired. The kids and I have been playing sleepover in the living room, hell on my body but there’s something fragile and perfect about being awake and listening to their breathing. I lay awake and think: remember this. I need to remember this. I will remember this. One time for all time.