Small

piano via kimberlyanncoyle.com

Life is so weird. One minute you’re running on the treadmill watching an old episode of Frasier, and the next you realize your sleeping daughter is due at piano lessons in exactly fifteen minutes. Your husband throws clothes on the sleepy headed kid, you set out an assortment of granola bars and grab a bizarre mixture of dinner leftovers to send in her lunch bag. Sans fork, because, of course.

On arriving at piano lessons, you in truly sweaty sweats, she tells you she needs $25 for the book fair at school in 30 minutes. You check your email before taking off for the ATM, because who carries that kind of cash around these days, and you discover an email from a mother asking if your piano-playing genius knows why her daughter has a big chunk of hair missing from the top of her head.

Sigh. More Frasier, less crazy please.

With money in hand, you pick up your girl and interrogate her on the way to school. Naturally, she knows nothing of Hair-gate, which you already knew, but had to ask. You drop off your child and go home, checking your email once again. Lots of stuff and nonsense, then an email from a friend launching something new. An email from another friend (whose life you envy beyond all reason) encouraging you to grab this crazy bull ride of a life by the horns and just do what you’re made to do. And a few more from friends with books prepared to launch. You want to scream and cry and shout epitaphs at the sky because your life is a series of misadventures and you just sent off a 1000 word article for absolutely no pay. You miss your old ex-pat life. You want Europe and you feel trapped in this never-ending Narnian winter in the suburbs of New Jersey. You hate everything and everyone. Where’s that missing lunch fork when you need it? You want to stab yourself in the eye.

You recognize you might be having what most parents call a temper tantrum. Then you see the email from a friend whose father is dying. Your anger deflates, and without all the wind of your perceived injustices, you feel small. Your friend will lose a parent soon. Your sister will have her baby, and your writer friends will birth books. Other friends will live out their dreams right before your teary, red-rimmed eyes. And you, you will realize your heart was small all along.

Subscribe

  • Awww, I love it K. Feeling it all too.

  • Emily Hoff

    I am often in awe of the good/bad, hard/fun, happy/sad dynamic that is life. It amazes me the range of emotions I can go through in a 24 hour period. But at the end of the day, sometimes it’s just comforting to remember that we are the created and the Creator is weaving it all into his plan.

    I do wish this winter would end already too! 🙂

  • Mark Allman

    I think your heart is pretty big especially the way you let us in to view it… it’s beauty and it’s flaws. There is hope there knowing that we are not the only ones that the only thing we feel like we are birthing is chaos. I think in the chaos you are working through are seeds of knowledge, seeds of another post, seeds of part of a book, seeds of wisdom to be applied later, and I do know you are birthing an adult by the way you work with your family. Obviously you have a lot of people whose lives you touch just from the email description you give above. Those connections birth more than we ever realize. Cherish the chaos…. for it is the birth place of beauty.