Wednesday Morning, July 23, Melanie’s Birthday—Long Beach
Oh Sacred Day!
Flashback—July 22, 1976—Excelsior, Minnesota
A tiny cottage perched on a grassy hill over-looking Lake Minnewashta. Black fly season on its way out, overlapping with mosquitoes on the way in, and lilacs burying the front porch in full bloom. Heat, wind, sparkling water and the baby inside of me two weeks late on making his/her appearance.
Adhering the doctor’s commands on patience, rest, and “I’ve never seen one NOT come out, it will happen, but you must store your strength”, I decided to not obey on this day. My garden had crossed the line in mild disarray to “Where are the flowers among this mish mash of weedy greenery?”, and heat did not bother me. My husband’s work in the hospitality industry was going to take him late into the night on this day, so I was free as a bird to work away. And so I did. I finally collapsed into bed at midnight, barely able to move, and half an hour later he dragged home and we fell asleep.
Fifteen minutes later. JOLT. WHOA…what was that? WHOA…I know what that was.
We made it to Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis an hour later and labor was in full swing. I, following the exact predictions that women in this stage do, was loudly telling my husband to go away. Thirteen hours later, Love arrived. Melanie Lucy. The most beautiful being I had ever seen, my heart melted and morphed into a new version of itself.
Thank you, my darling girl/woman. The heart has its own language and no words suffice.
You are forever lilacs and summer breezes and golden light and heat and dancing to your rhythm. Love.