Reflection on who Cora is has been lacking. I've only had enough time to experience her, barely contemplate her. When Ender was a baby, I had two or three naps to myself to muse over his idiosyncrasies. Last night, after the kids were in bed, I found myself thinking of Cora, the creature :)
This is one way I see it. One way that helps me to make sense of the little things I try to shepherd.
First of all both of them came from some other dimension.
Ender, when he entered this blue terrestrial ball, came with a purpose. His plan is to eventually take over and rule the people, all the people. Zander and I are doing the best we can to deactivate his tyrannical brain, but he's smart, he's determined, he's Ender. The forces of good and evil are already battling it out inside is three year old heart and mind Its intense. But we know we have a winner.
Now,Cora. When she entered our planet, she came in the likeness of a plump fairy godmother. She wipes away the tears and grants wishes. Her happiness is contagious and she blesses those who will pause to meet her gaze. She will reward them with a bright smile, a laugh, a silly gesture, a conversation that sounds more like a nice rest by a babbling brook...or.....squawking peacock. Be careful though, she has an odd twitch in her arm, and will slap you in the face if you're not careful. Its just a minor malfunction that tech support is working on.... I'm sure some wiring in her celestial brain overheated when she entered our earth's atmosphere.
Sometimes Zander and I try to explain to each other how Cora made us feel that day. But there are no words.
"she's like.."
"Its just that..."
"And then she did, you know that thing...."
a dreamy sigh from us both....
...."And oh my goodness she's
just so amazing!"
Cora is stumping me. How can someone so small, so apparently human, (she certainly has a good disguise at least) be so incredibly happy?
Oh, wait, other things that will trigger a glitch in her perfect being is being short on blueberries, daring to give her a vegetable and sleep deprivation. Here she half laughs and half screams for blueberries.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Bobbye Jean
the morning mama called to tell me our Bobbye had passed away the babes were awake and the day was beginning its demands on me. That has been one of my fears since having Ender: what can I do when I lose someone I love? I cope by completely unraveling, then silence, then more weeping, then running to some place solitaire, a tree, a mountain, under my covers. A mother cannot do that. I inhale deeply and go and make breakfast.
Cora and I made the journey home. I thought I would be given a chance to say goodbye, but I was sleep deprived this trip. Cora, I love her, but she is what she is, a baby girl with needs. She did not do great at night, though during the day she was a champ, regardless, I was exhausted. Plus, it was mama's mama who died, I wanted to go to support her. Its funny, my Phoenix community hardly batted an eye at her loss. Its not that I needed everyone to know and so fawn over me, its just strange to have such a big part of my heart hidden a thousand miles away, another life. I've said this before, it comes to mind again, "my heart is fractured across time and space" Grandma had a piece of me, and she still has it in a place that is not this earth.
God help me, I'll miss this woman. She meant something deep in my heart. I came from her. As a child I idealized her. She was the Queen of Guthrie and her castle was a little yellow house on Washington. The air there was thick with memories. People complained it was the humidity, but surely it was the dew of the town's past, my past. I loved it. Somewhere in all that intrigue and mystery was my story. I'd listen for someone, anyone to tell me the tale of my family. I strained my ears to hear it in the wind that rushes through the cotton woods, down the brick streets, under the vi dock, past the porches of familiar faces. Grandma was the portal to my past and a key to part of me.
She was a firecracker.
The summers were warm and damp with a chance of tornadoes.
Cucumber salad
Saturday mornings in the kitchen watching the Price is Right.
Exploring the abandoned hospital (where mama was born) and the ice house by the train tracks with Tyler.
Bringing Sharon her paper.
Experiencing an epiphany as a child sitting behind my grandmother's curly brown hair on a rollercoaster just as the train of rickety cars reached the brink before the plummet. At that moment she astonished and inspired me.
Buying vegetables from the man with one arm
Coloring while Grandma watched her soaps.
Outings to the cemeteries and gossiping about the dead (God bless them)
Jumping in her water bed and forcing her to cuddle with me while she watched football.
She laughed a lot. She teased, flirted, had her opinions. She was the matriarch and I felt so empowered and safe surrounded by her, mama and my aunts.
Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children. ~Alex Haley
Cora and I made the journey home. I thought I would be given a chance to say goodbye, but I was sleep deprived this trip. Cora, I love her, but she is what she is, a baby girl with needs. She did not do great at night, though during the day she was a champ, regardless, I was exhausted. Plus, it was mama's mama who died, I wanted to go to support her. Its funny, my Phoenix community hardly batted an eye at her loss. Its not that I needed everyone to know and so fawn over me, its just strange to have such a big part of my heart hidden a thousand miles away, another life. I've said this before, it comes to mind again, "my heart is fractured across time and space" Grandma had a piece of me, and she still has it in a place that is not this earth.
God help me, I'll miss this woman. She meant something deep in my heart. I came from her. As a child I idealized her. She was the Queen of Guthrie and her castle was a little yellow house on Washington. The air there was thick with memories. People complained it was the humidity, but surely it was the dew of the town's past, my past. I loved it. Somewhere in all that intrigue and mystery was my story. I'd listen for someone, anyone to tell me the tale of my family. I strained my ears to hear it in the wind that rushes through the cotton woods, down the brick streets, under the vi dock, past the porches of familiar faces. Grandma was the portal to my past and a key to part of me.
She was a firecracker.
The summers were warm and damp with a chance of tornadoes.
Cucumber salad
Saturday mornings in the kitchen watching the Price is Right.
Exploring the abandoned hospital (where mama was born) and the ice house by the train tracks with Tyler.
Bringing Sharon her paper.
Experiencing an epiphany as a child sitting behind my grandmother's curly brown hair on a rollercoaster just as the train of rickety cars reached the brink before the plummet. At that moment she astonished and inspired me.
Buying vegetables from the man with one arm
Coloring while Grandma watched her soaps.
Outings to the cemeteries and gossiping about the dead (God bless them)
Jumping in her water bed and forcing her to cuddle with me while she watched football.
She laughed a lot. She teased, flirted, had her opinions. She was the matriarch and I felt so empowered and safe surrounded by her, mama and my aunts.
Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children. ~Alex Haley
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