When I left Houston for good, I thought I’d take a little video of the loop Ethan and I would walk on when he was very young. The sky was usually beautiful above us, and this one was mediocre, but I even miss that one. It’s not the sky really. It’s the wide openness of it all, and how it reflects love into everything you see.
I wasn’t able to figure out how to upload the video, but you get a sense. Peak summer right here.
This letter is a lot about nothing.
July 18, 2021
Dear Ethan,
It’s been raining, and raining, and raining…
Oh, and around bedtime, the thunder and lightning put on a show overhead. When I was a kid, dog-hot and hanging my head out of my dad’s maroon Mazda, we’d always pass by an empty soccer field with a tired goalpost sitting lonely in the middle of it. Usually, by the time we made it around the bend, the sky would snap and crackle and pop with the delicious electricity that is North Dallas, and my dad would say, “Don’t worry Mija. That’s just God taking pictures.”
Far from making me feel calmer, I’d think—“Oh! My! God! What am I doing now?!”
I actually don’t mind the rain. In fact, I love it, and the renewal that comes after. Rainwater lulls sleepy plants out of the ground, and they’re nourished and alive and sharing their grace. I have a little succulent in my kitchen I’m growing fond of, she’s trying to grow a little bud and I’m so proud of her dedication to bringing the outdoors in.
In all honesty, most of the time I have so much on my mind that I don’t pay diddly squat attention to that flower-in-training. There’s a little storm cloud that lives above my head telling me to call my mom, pay bills, plan my fall course, wrapping up odds and ends at work, edit about three stories I’ve got revisions on, fold and load mountains of laundry that never seem to get any smaller, get everyone’s birth certificates and vaccination cards and passports in one place that’s labeled neatly with dividers, pay more bills, take you potty every two hours…really, I’ve made a whole job out of avoiding a whole lot and fanaticizing about rhubarb pie and s’mores cupcakes and chicken sandwiches at Popeyes.
I dream of just lying in the grass, muddling my watercolors into rainbows, walking through TJ Maxx without a timer, and imagine I am a world-famous interior decorator with ribbons in my hair, and oh, wait, my clothes fit…all of these dreams feel laughable, but hey, one day, perhaps.
love you forever and a day,
mama