Saturday, November 23, 2013

A fort for a rainy day

The house is quiet. I just came from the neighbor's house where I went to hold their baby. It was a: "I need to hold a baby" kind of day. Her soft grunting baby sounds were immensely soothing. Occasionally she would stretch her little legs, feet crammed in pajamas with covered little feet. How I would love to wear a pair of pajamas with covered little feet on a day like today. 
A day when the rain comes down cold and like spit, not comforting at all and while I suppose maybe it's good for the farmers it seems so freezing that maybe it wouldn't do them much good. The kids had made a fort this morning, piling up the couch cushions on some chairs and draping a blanket across. One added a giant stuffed tiger to the top, perhaps to be a guard, I'm not real sure. 
I pad to the fridge for a beer, well aware that it's generally not considered polite to have one before noon but not caring a bit. Words like 'stage four cancer' have a way of unsettling me just a bit, ok, maybe more than a bit, perhaps down to my core. 
And more than anything I want to pile up the couch cushions around me, drape it all in blankets, and hide from the world. With the furious beating on the window of frozen rain punishing the Earth as the background music I just want a fort to crawl into. To make this all go away. 
Instead I go over to hold a baby. Her soft warm head nestled against my shoulder. She grunts and groans and I transition her to the other shoulder.   Her father makes a comment about her and I agree readily and declare that she must be a little warrior girl. The baby gives me a fierce little look which just confirms my assessment. 
Then my friend calls and asks if I want to go see the Thor movie. Why yes, golden honey-kissed abs might just cheer me up slightly. 
So I hand the baby back to her mother and I pad back to my house to finish my beer. Before my mind can go to the dark places it wants to go to I hit repeat again on Sarah Jaffe's 'Clementine' song which has this magical affect of numbing me. And I want to be numb rather than go to the dark places. Its a dark, freezing day anyway, so it wouldn't take much for me to spiral. So instead, I write and think about how I, too, wish I was a little more delicate. But then again, if I wasn't a stronger person after all that has gone on this crappy year, well... who knows. Maybe it's good that    I'm a little warrior girl. 
There are some nasty things I would do to Cancer if it were a being that I could punch. I have a feeling there would not be enough people in the world to pull me off it, for I would flail my little fists at its disgusting body until it was dead. Heavens, that would be nice though. To beat the ever-living shit out of cancer, pardon my French. Right now there is nothing more that I want to do. But I can't fight crappy cancer like it were a man, for its a slithering snake of a coward anyway and I know exactly which slithering snake it comes from. How I would love to punch him in the face too. I'm not sure if there are ever any awards in heaven, but I know that if this is one of them; if there's a: stand in this line to punch Satan in the face, I would wait in it. Even if it was the longest line in the world. 
Until then though. Until I get to wait in the 'punch Satan in the face' line, I'll write a story, hold a baby, and later I'll go watch some golden abs do something or other with a hammer. For you can pile up your fort with some girlfriends, some neighbors and your family. I think it works better that way. Like humanity is a pack of penguins, and some have to be on the cold outside, but eventually we get our turn sheltered on the warm inside. A fort of warm bodies to shield us from the freezing rain of life. Because sometimes, you just need a fort for a rainy day. 

1 comment:

  1. I would gladly join you in punching cancer if it were possible.


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