Baby Waiting

My sister is having a baby. I should be eating, and then sleeping, but I am not. I am writing, I am smoking, I am sipping a glass of wine (to sleep, perchance to dream), I am waiting for this baby to come. It is better than Christmas.
And isn't that what Christmas is all about? A celebration of a child being born? I am not Christian and so it is completely right that my sister's baby's upcoming birth would be better than Christmas. Besides, we are all children of God, and every birth is a miracle birth.
I left her tonight in bed. I had just rubbed her feet (come on, Baby) and kissed her face a million times. Then kissed her belly (come ON, Baby!) a million times, and her husband (whom she caressed as I walked out the door and I heard her say, "You've been a good Daddy today..") was getting tucked up beside her and Owen, oh Owen, our (their) two and a half year old about to snuggle in between....
Lily. Beautiful Lily. You are resplendent. The way you are so calm and cool, the way you take this world, this motherhood and wear it like silk on your skin. You ask for a kiss and the boy comes a runnin'. Who knows what this next child will do?
I joke and I say, "I can't wait to see what this baby will be! A zebra? A dinosaur? A fairy?". It is not so much a joke because as Mama said earlier today we could not have imagined who Owen would be, and I said there's no use imagining. We don't know the sex, but really, who cares about the sex? Who will this person be? I hope our sense of humor is there, I hope for health and beauty and that lovingness we in our family have for each other is there. Those are my hopes.
If she (he) is half as beautiful as Lily we will be blessed. If he (she) is half as smart as Uncle Hank we will be blessed. If she (he) is half as healthy as our Mama we will be blessed. And if he (she) is half as Zen-like as Pop-pop, as half as determined and loving as Aunt Jessie, as half as funny and just a damn good person as is Jason, we will be blessed, we will be blessed, we will be blessed. No matter what, we get a new person to love, to grow a new heart for, to make our great days even greater and deeper and fuller, and we will be blessed.
Oh Baby, I love you. You have a family who will always hold you up and keep you strong. You have a Mama and Daddy who will always be there for you. You have grandparents who will teach you amazing things and love you unconditionally. You have aunts and uncles who will play rumble-tumble with you and spoil you rotten and teach you the dirty words. You have a brother who is the most amazing soul (so deep, so funny, so true, so smart) who will guide you and protect you and know you better than anyone else.
Come ON, Baby, come on. We are waiting for you. We love you.

My Girl

Today is the day my babiest sister graduates from college. I don't know how that could have happened, not that it is strange that she has accomplished something like that, but that she could be old enough to do so. Isn't she a tiny girl, rollerskating around the house? Isn't she a little thing, packing a plastic suit case and declaring that she's off to Meximo City? Isn't she our baby girl? Isn't she our girl? I will not cry. (The tears are already in my eyes.) I've been crying for a week straight.
As the storms that swept through the south were just starting to kick up wisps of leaves and hints of what was to be such total devastation, I started to feel off. Irritable, ornery, sassy. I wanted to pick fights, I felt like I hated everyone who walked through the door at my work. I said mean things. I had to mentally restrain myself from dashing full plates to the floor and smashing water glasses. My arms longed to knock something over. Preferably something big that would make a very loud bang and would break in an irreparable way. Then came the tears.
I cried because people were leaving at work and I had to replace them and it was too hard. I cried because not only are they leaving, but they are going off to better and brighter things, and I stay here and what to them was a job to get them through school and supply them mad money for nights of vodka luge, new panties, and marijuana, appears to be my career. I cried because my man is so far away and loves his job so much. I cried because I'm getting old. I cried because my legs hurt so much. I cried because I have a cat and I do not pet her enough. (Seriously, just looking at her little face was enough to set me off.) I cried because I do not have a baby. I cried because I was on my period and oh the storm was building and my sister, my baby tiny little sunshine girl is leaving.
A couple of nights ago after she played at the restaurant, one of my co-workers said, "May, I think I have a crush on your sister." He said it real plain and earnest, and not teasing in any way. "Yes," I said, "She's a good one to have a crush on." and then we talked about how fine she is. Which is one of my favorite things to do.
Many years ago I started waxing poetic about her at a party in St. Augustine. I had had several glasses of wine at that point and I remember gesturing with both hands and saying how beautiful she was and how talented and how marvelous. My then boyfriend leaned over to me and whispered that no one cared, that I was embarrassing myself. I sank back into the couch exhausted and said, "I just love her so much." The funny thing about that is the people I was talking to, the people hosting the party, are the people who my sister now calls her Fairy Godparents and who love her almost as much as I do. Ha! Suck it, ex-boyfriend! It's not overly effusive if you have to be in order to be completely honest. Kiss my ass, I just love her so much.
My sister Jessie is very tall, and very talented, and very smart, and very beautiful. That's all true, but it's not enough. She has an angel's face, a perfect oval, with big blue eyes and a mouth that could have been painted in the Renaissance. She is Aphrodite, she is Diana, she is the Virgin Mary, she is one better, she is herself. Her fingers are delicate and tapered and I like to take her hand when I talk to her and hold it, and bring it up to my lips to kiss because even just that hand is so precious to me. When she is playing mandolin her face smooths and her body relaxes and it is like watching something intimate and magical and completely natural taking place, like the unfolding of a flower or a sunrise, so languid, so.... yes... sexy and yet not so, and then she smiles and the clouds you didn't know were there part and the sun bursts through. She shines so brightly sometimes I have to look away.
Her grace is something that is not just held in her body but also in the way she moves through life. She is graceful with people, she is graceful in situations that most would find difficult or uncomfortable. Children and animals follow her with blind love. She is the kind of girl you want near, just because her presence makes the air feel better. When she is around I know that everything will be okay, not because I need her to take care of things (though she does) but because when I look at her face I am soothed. She is balm, that girl.
Which is why it is so right that she is graduating from nursing school. I can't think of anyone I would rather have by my side if I was in pain, or afraid, or having a baby. She will be using those lovely hands to provide succor to those lucky enough to find themselves in her care. I almost envy their broken bones, I almost envy their labor pains. It is right, it is good, so is she.
She is in love. If I thought she was beautiful before (and she was and I did) now she is even more so and grows more lovely everyday. Could she be any more beautiful? She is so beautiful that only she could be a thing more beautiful than she is now, so I suppose that is possible. Maybe when she herself has a baby, as our sister Lily has and who has herself grown more astonishingly gorgeous since.
I am so glad that she is in love, and that she is doing exactly what she needs to do for herself and her life. They will be moving in together, in another town, in another state. They will make a home. They will nest. They will sleep well together. As I told her not too long ago, there is nothing that makes my heart happier or more at peace than knowing that her heart is taken care of. I believe this man will look after her heart. I believe he may love her enough to keep loving her and to love her more.
Now I am crying again because this is so big to me- this girl, her love, her accomplishments, my love for her. I am not heart broken that she is leaving, I am heart-mended, and I am finding that a full to bursting, happy heart can be just as painful as a broken one. I am so glad for her that I cannot stop weeping.
Jessie Girl- you are leaving but you are not leaving us. We travel in you as you ride in our hearts and minds, and it will always be that way. There is nothing you could ever do that would lessen my love for you and your absence will not cause your face to fade in my mind. You are imprinted in me, you are the wallpaper in my heart. I am so proud of you. I just love you so much. Now go be free, you sweet little thing.