Susan Senator

Come dance with the west wind
Touch all the mountaintops
Scale all the canyons and onto the sky
Reach for the heavens and hope for the future
And all that we can be, not what we ought.
–John Denver, “Eagle and the Hawk”

Too many things to write about, which is good, but it also ends up meaning I don’t want to write. I get overwhelmed when I feel that there is too much I have to write about. Then I start to get bored with my own life. So to keep that from happening, I have to get back to my writing-feeling, which means I just have to think about one or two feelings and memories from yesterday and write about them, rather than do some pedestrian summary for you.

Ned enjoyed his many presents, particularly the tiny indoor helicopter I and his sister had gotten for him (so he has two, but they are different, and he is totally thrilled with having both). I had also gotten him an antique Chinese calligraphy brush (Ned does calligraphy), a book on photography, and the new Paul McCartney CD (I hate Paul. Never saw the appeal. He also seems a bit whorish somehow with changing to the Starbucks label. My fave Beatle was George.). Max got him John Hodgman’s new book, which is really bizarre and funny. You can only read little bits at a time. And Ben got him a SuperHero Action Figure book. (Aagh! I’m summarizing, snore, snore)

So good seeing Mom and Dad, even though such a short visit. I had burned two CDs for Dad for Father’s Day, one was my favorite love songs combined with some Arabic artists (Natacha Atlas and Amr Diab) and other (like Eric Clapton and Bob Dylan) that I thought he’d like. The other CD was what I called “Out West Songs,” which are a bunch of old John Denver that he used to love during the ’70s, and Glen Campbell’s Rhinestone Cowboy. When I heard “Eagle and the Hawk” I had chills of delight and I called Laura immediately on her cell and asked her to listen and identify. She said, “Oh, wow!” It is a wallop to the system, the rush of teary, sweet memory of just hanging out with Dad, being part of his joy.

Mom and I had the best walk and talk while we went to get sodas at the Games. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, as satisfying and embracing as a heart-to-heart with Mom when you are in great need. And I was. I have had a really tough year. Too many ups and downs even for me. But she just set me straight and gave me lots of hugs that felt like the most familiar thing on earth and yet also different because she is smaller than me now.

And Nat. Oh Nat. He was in The Zone. And I don’t mean the Pinching Zone, I mean that peaceful happy spot for success. He was quiet and patient while he waited and waited for his heat in the Men’s 25 meter freestyle. We all sat together in the steamy building watching the others in their races. Stephanie, Nat’s old teacher who is also coming with him to his sleep-away camp, joined us.

He filed in with his team, ahead of everyone else, tall and beautiful, a slight smile on his lips. He got right into the water. He swam his hardest. Those guys were fast. I was sure he came in second, but he ended up getting the bronze. He was standing there on the podium; I wondered if he felt a twinge of disappointment the way I did at realizing he’d come in third. But once they slipped that medal over his head, he burst out in the most gorgeous grin, which stayed on his face until the car ride home.