O Nevo Drom
I woke up this morning and it hit me – how really good it is to be me. There have been many birthdays in the last 48 years when I woke up thinking the exact opposite. In fact, I can easily recall mornings when my first impulse was to curse because I woke up and realized this thing called my life wasn’t a dream. This isn’t one of those days. Oddly enough, the older I have gotten, the less those kinds of days plague me even though life has gotten much more perilous in so many ways. It is good to grow old and only the lucky do.
I woke up being profoundly grateful for what I have rather than worrying about what will come or what I lack. It’s not that I lack for things to be fearful of. My most beloved daughter has a neurological disorder of some kind and all the obvious potential explanations of what it could be are gut wretchedly horrendous. Although, I get through each day by praying it all ends up being one of those mysterious medical one-offs that no one understands or even can begin to explain. After all, the human brain is still a deep uncharted country. She looks fine, she moves fine, she thinks fine, she sees fine; therefore, for this moment she is fine and that is as far as I need to know today. Tomorrow will look after itself.
Sure there was one moment in the last month when I gave into the dark tea time of my mind and let my fears overcome my heart. I started down the path asking why her? Why my daughter, my only daughter, a daughter who hasn’t yet had a chance to fall in love, marry, have a family or even a career . But it wouldn’t really matter if I had 100 daughters, as I would only have one Kiki Tzipporah, only one Amazon. My daughter, who has spent most the last 19 years of her life helping others get through theirs. And if not my daughter, whose daughter would I pick to change places with mine? This is not something I can wish on someone else’s child, so this is our lot, our portion, and whatever the outcome, she is alive and what she needs from me is to show her how to live with the time she has been graced with rather than to die a little every day. I can do this. I was made to do this. It’s a talent of mine and I do it well.
And the future, the future is unknown but I will all face it when it comes, until then, there is simply today and that is really all that is knowable or important. No matter the outcome, we live and we live in today. So I woke up and discovered the house cleaning faeries visited my home and left everything shiny and gleaming. The magical house cleaning faeries even programmed the coffee pot to automatically turn on so all I had to do was pour, sip and survey my kingdom… and count my blessing.
Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Happy Birthday, Kateland.
Yom Huledet Same’ach!