Happy Mother's Day - Year 2

D and I are sitting in the kitchen listening to a bunch of old music we'd totally forgotten about until he got the i-pod and filled it up with all these old mixed CDs he's made over the years. Right now we're listening to the Alabama Sacred Heart singers (or Harp, I can't figure out which is correct - I've seen both). This really rich, crazy church music from I don't know when, the 40's, in the backwoods of the south.

When we were staying with his grandparents right after we came back from Phoenix, we would drive around North Mississippi smoking and drinking coffee all night long. Just driving all around the back streets listening to music and talking. We talked mostly about what we were going to do next with our lives. Have kids? Get real jobs? Go back to school? Buy a house?

"Are you crazy?" we'd say. "We can't afford a house! I can't even imagine wanting the responsibility of a house right now!"

Rent a house. With a yard. Call Jeff and Amie. Let's go hang out. Call Dale and Kristen. Let's get dressed up and go out. It's all we did back then. And that wasn't that long ago.

We had sex in the field in the back of his grandparent's house. D found a tic under my arm the next morning in the sunlight that was streaming through the window of the quilted guest bedroom.

This was before everything started changing. D's grandfather died a slow, painful death. His grandmother began going crazy - or it became evident that she'd been going crazy for some time and D's grandfather had been helping to hide it. Then Nick died. How did that fit into our plans? Shit. What plans? At that point, everything just went on hold, subconsciously. No thought - just stay sane. Remain stable. Don't think. For god's sake, don't feel. Don't feel at all cost or it'll strike you down next, whatever IT is.

And then we had Lily. No. Then we got pregnant 2 months after I stopped taking the pill. Things lightened up after that and they've been getting brighter ever since.

Lily has a harmonica now that she plays all the time. We give it to her when people are over in an attempt to have her entertain our guests. Something we never thought we'd do. I hate that I do it yet I cannot help myself. I so badly want people to see my sweet angel blowing with all her might into that antique harmonica. Wouldn't that be cool is she eventually learned how to play for real?

She's so interesting. I look forward to seeing what of kind stuff she's going to be into as she gets older. Will she want to listen to our music? Will she think we're cool? I hear that kids never do when they get to a certain age but if she's smart, won't she be above that childish view of what's meaningful? Will I even care either way by that time? I'll just chalk it up to a phase if she isn't into us, but I'm sure my heart will break first.

I just can't wait to teach her about being older. Grown. When we can have conversations with each other. Debate. I can give her advice. About what classes to take. Whether she should get married or not. If she should buy or rent. When she has a baby! A grandbaby! I'm going to be such a good grandmommy! I'm totally adopting that moniker for myself. I love it.