Must-a Got Lost!

Don't know what happened to yesterday's post. I posted it. Oh well. So I'll post two new ones for you to read today.

Yesterday's:

I’m in Oprah’s backyard tonight. Flew into Chicago this afternoon. I positively love flying on airplanes. Haven’t done it very often which is why it hasn’t lost its appeal, I suppose. How can men shut their eyes, put in earphones and go to sleep? Don’t they realize what they’re missing?

The greens and tans and browns of the earth below. The skinny winding roads. All those boxes of varying sizes called houses and businesses so far away. And the clouds! I can’t decide if they look more like marshmallow or snow. I think this may be why I am not afraid of flying. It’s surreal; Take your pick: either fluffy mounds of marshmallow crème or mountain after snow-covered mountain. What’s to spook?

And I trust the pilot – you know, the total stranger I’ve never met before in my life. I trust him. I place my safety in his hands without worry.

The cabbies, however, are a different story. So far, three rides today, and tomorrow I think I shall do much more walking. Yikes! It’s a free-for-all. Whose got the biggest, shall we say, nerve, wins the road. Now this is spooky.

As I was gazing out the airplane window incredulous at the sleeping beauties I realized that in my everyday life I take just as much, if not more, for granted. The sky at home is no less awesome; I’m just looking up instead of down. The birds that fly by don’t usually get but a passing glance from me. Why don’t I feed them? Why don’t I welcome them into my yard?

And what about the wonder that is found in my children’s eyes? So what if they’re 19-24 years old now? Does that matter at all? Why aren’t they still the daily miracles they were when they were younger…and I was younger? One of my sons has a fleck of gold in his right eye. When was the last time I searched for it? This particular dear child is also the exact height to make it possible to hear his heart beat perfectly when I lay my head against his chest as I hug him. Why don’t I hug him every day come rain or come shine? Why do I let stupid stuff get in the way? Why do I let days pass without experiencing the wonder that is motherhood?

I made these kids (with a little help from their dad) and I know them better than anyone. When and why did I allow the magic to fade away? Much to think about.