Several times daily Hannah asks each of us, "Happy? Uh-sad? (Happy? Or sad?)." I cannot hide my emotions from her because she holds a hidden barometer inside herself. I've posted about this before, but this quality continues to grow and mature. I wish I could rip it out of her, but instead I know that I only continue to teach it to her.
Even so, she remains carefree and spontaneous, naked in body and spirit, incapable of hiding anything. I just finished reading The Memory Keeper's Daughter, in which a main character has Down's Syndrome and consequently shows every emotion, hugs everyone she meets, lives life in a childlike manner regardless of her age. Hannah behaves openly that way, hugging every child she encounters, talking to people happily though few can understand her. She assumes everyone likes her and consequently, most do.
At about 6:00 yesterday evening I finished the laundry I had begun and put away my mess. I went outside to check on Hannah and Carl, but couldn't find them anywhere, though both vehicles were home. Finally I found them at the neighbors' house sharing an impromptu barbecue on the new deck that Carl helped them finish last Sunday. Hannah, wearing only panties, danced on the deck with her mouth wide open, living entirely in the moment, happy to dance and sing and make people smile. Originally I felt mortified. She was practically naked, fairly filthy and barefooted.
I've grown to realize I'm the only one who cares. The neighbor playing the music kept asking Hannah what song she wanted next. Everyone chatted and drank beer and margaritas, laughing at Hannah and egging her on. I watched for a while, then called home to have Hailey bring some clothes over. She brought a light blue and yellow sundress that Katie wore as a little one, in which I dressed Hannah, then enjoyed the party.
The "D.J." (really a neighbor playing music on a CD player) played music from the sixties, seventies, eighties--every decade to the present--by the light of a dozen Citronella candles purchased at the Dollar store. Each decade's music prompted us to visit about our lives in that era, what we had accomplished and experienced. As I looked back over my life, I realized I have enjoyed many different things, that my life has been full.
I attended college, sang in a so-so rock-n-roll band (but, hey, we got paid), played tennis, experimented in some things I probably shouldn't have but lived to tell, married, travelled to France, Spain and Portugal, started a business with my husband, snow skied, water skied, white-water rafted, vacationed twice in the Bahamas, struggled with chronic illness, developed some wonderful friendships, let some friends down...I've had a rich life and I'm not even forty yet, though almost.
"Happy? Uh-sad, Mom?" Hannah asks me.
Happy. Definitely happy.
4 comments:
As so often with your writing, you've encompassed a small world in a few paragraphs. You really must read Schuyler's Monster; Hannah's qualities are something that we touched on during our book club. I love you for embracing the moment, even when you were mortified. You've had a wonderful life, with, it seems, your soul mate. I'm so happy I know you.
hi angela,
i wanta live in the moment like your hannah. i want to relish the good things in the moment. i want to notice them. what a great example she is ... of finding and sharing JOY.
thanks for the kind words on my blog tonight about the bitters. i appreciate your sweetness. thank you, kathleen
Laurie--your kind comments always leave me a little speechless. Thanks. I'm hope we meet soon. I'm ordering Schuyler's Monster on amazon right now.
Kathleen: Hannah seems always to be teaching me, if only I would learn the first time.
Sometimes I feel like I'm riding a wave, barely living in the moment, knowing I will look back and wonder why I didn't relish it all the more.
How I wish that I could be as carefree as a child again. Hannah sounds like a real treasure.
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