9:43 AM 3/3/03 it was back in '87 as I recall...my son was just hitting the "toddler-get into everything-stage"...it seemed like every time i went to do laundry there was another treasure to be found...sometimes it was wadded up candy or gum with the wrappers all destroyed within the mass...something he must have gotten into when i was self-absorbed- playing my "feel sorry for me" 45's....sometimes it was crackers or cookies all crumbled into the seams of his jeans....guess i was too busy partying to notice...but he was smart enough to save something for later....in his pockets..... then time faded in and out for a few years...i would get it together and then for no reason at all, stumble off the boat and somewhere between reality and make believe, I would find myself doing laundry again....he had started school and in his little carpenter pants there'd be a crayon bit up on the end, a picture of the beach colored at "quiet time"- all folded up neatly to show mommy sometime when he had my attention-obviously that had not happened that week, or sometimes it was a little creature he had made friends with on a nature walk. Whether it was a worm or a little grasshopper, he was careful enough to wrap it in a tissue or a napkin so he could keep it comfortable ...and when he was lonely, tired, or just needed someone... he had a friend....in his pockets.... we moved to the beach when he was seven and things were on the upswing...i was finally putting together some sane and responsible time...his dad was living with us again...for the hundredth or so "one more time"....but all was good in the world....i would take the clothes down to the basement and start the laundry on sunday nites. of course, while going thru my son's clothes, though i would tell him time and time again to empty out his pockets, i would find something...a math test with a 90% and a gold star on top all balled up ...a baby starfish from the park when we were over at the dock a few days before enjoying the serenity of nature together....or the cellophane paper left over from the donut i had bought him at the bakery that very morning when we were walking jasper, his first dog....special little momentos to remember a "good week" ....in his pockets..... we didn't stay in the house by the beach...two years passed and we were on our way-just he and i- to places unknown-clear across the country on a peter pan bus....we stopped in vegas and began our life ..."one more time..." life in vegas was so different from the tranquility we had found on the new england shore....fast paced and a city that truly never slept...i got a job and a place to live and somewhere in between my responsibilities, i found time to throw all our clothes together and head to the laundromat in the center of the apartment complex late at nite....as i listened to the pumped in country music and sorted the clothes, out pops a pencil with the eraser missing (gosh, i had told him soooo many times not to bite it off!), a pen that had exploded (grrr....now there's ink all over his new jeans....didn't he realize how hard i was trying to keep him in new clothes!), and a ticket stub to the monster truck show we had gone to weeks before....i began my search thru each pocket of his pants...from mini paper airplanes, to colored rocks, to pieces of a standard size eraser...hmm, what's this? i pulled out a picture and turned it over....it was a picture of me, his dad and him when he was about five, taken at grandpa's house when grandma was still alive....guess he was holding onto memories of better times....in his pockets...... this morning, i shuffled to his room to grab his dirty clothes....ok, i got the track shorts, the uniforms for work, his school clothes....i took inventory as i picked up the ones that had "just missed" his hamper (half way across the room...grrr) ...where's the new jeans he just HAD to have? Prince, his furry canine, happened to jump up to move across the room and lie down in front of the window...voila...the jeans had been under him...now fur covered and wrinkled...grrrr...and what's this? a number 2 pencil and a fine point pen sticking out of the pockets....i once again began emptying his pockets ... a school pass to go to the phone (must have been the day he called me because he forgot his odometer for track practice), a rolled up piece of paper with a phone number (perfume...girl!), empty gum wrappers (ggggrrrr you know where the trash is!), and even an empty deodorant container (well, at least he smells clean after gym and practice...course it just has to be because of the mysterious phone number!). I had gone thru six of the seven pockets on this one pair of jeans...(of course, nowadays we don't buy jeans for comfort or durability-it's pocket space!) ok, one to go- i undid the velcro of the last pocket...papers inside....hmmm, maybe a note from said girl....no, a program from the last track meet....he's done a great job this year...a smile crossed my early morning face....i am lucky he's a good boy....and gosh, it's great to be alive and able to enjoy it....what's this? a small wrinkled peice of paper fell out of the program....oh, it was the note i wrote him before the district meet..." good luck...relax, have fun and do your best...i believe in you....have a great day! i luv you, mom" .....and scribbled in pencil ever so lightly below..."i love u 2 mom." .....gee, the small things in life that matter so much...and to think i never would have seen the enormity of a little note- had it not been kept safe and sacred....in his pockets........... |
IN HIS POCKETS... |
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