We took a walk, the first one in a long while,
and he was telling me how changeful I am.
He said,
"Remember how you proclaimed that we were all going to be vegetarians and then you made us all quit eating meat?"
Yeah I remember. That one lasted 2 years.
And there have been other short-lived proclamations.
I think it might be hard to be the child of a wandering soul,
especially when you're a black-and-white sort of person.
I said,
"Yes, I start new things all the time. It's one of the best things about me!
And one of the worst."
I keep something from everything I leave behind.
A little remnant of knowledge.
A healthy habit or a painful bruise.
I imagine myself, at the end of life,
a patched-up conglomeration of everything I've tried.
Maybe a beautiful mosaic, maybe a piece of trash-art.
Depending on how you look at it.
It's easier to be the child of a scheduled constant.
It's easier to live under the roof of someone who never contradicts himself, never changes direction. Keeps to the safe road.
But I look at my children and all four have somehow survived
my neglectfulness or my hovering,
my inability to stick to a plan,
my confusing mix of strictness and lenience.
I think it's because, beyond the erratic mealtimes and the abandoned projects
is one unscheduled constant:
Love.
I think, if you can give your child that,
along with a huge bucket of humor to wash over everything,
then you've done alright.
I've done alright.
*
