Thursday, December 04, 2008

ode to december fourth

This time last year I sat at this desk. I typed at this computer. I answered this phone. I felt this sunshine pouring in this Carpet Factory window. I dawdled the day away, waiting for 5:00 p.m. to mark the end of the work day and the start of Tuesday's date night.

The night before had been our first annual BWV Christmas gathering at 518 Jane, where life was the party. The tree, oversized, had been tied unceremoniously to the ceiling with a piece of string to prevent it from falling over. Covering it were Dollar Store ornaments that we had decorated (and, in most cases, smudged) with Dollar Store glitter glue. Someone had tied ribbon around Audrey Hepburn's neck and she was frantically searching for a solution, explanation, or hostage to solve her irritation. One of the Secret Santa gifts had been a set of suction-cup dart guns which handful of 20-somethings were now shooting at each other, running around the living room, shrieking, and hopping on the furniture in a state of maddened holiday glee.

Andrew and I sat on the free, floral 70's couch from Craigslist in that living room, tired and happy, watching our friends feign dramatic, suction-cup-related deaths. When the mood and couch shifted we watched half of "It's A Wonderful Life" before everyone headed groggily to their respective apartments and beds.

So I would add to the list that this time last year I was also a little sleepy.

What I didn't know was that 5:00 p.m. would bring about a bizarre series of events and culminate in a life-altering question.

Since then I have learned many lessons. I learned one can buy wedding dresses direct from China off of eBay for $50. I learned that bad news is no respecter of bachelorette weekends. I learned that honeymoons make one really hungry and really tired. I learned that it's much better to finish thank-you cards right after the wedding. I learned how to live with a boy. I've learned the interior of the local IKEA.

I learned that I am not the center of the universe. I learned how to love someone more than myself. I learned that everything means nothing if I ain't got him*. I learned how to love and how to be loved. I learned how to forgive and how to be forgiven. I learned how to be one.

This time next year I know I will have learned all of this over again, and so much more.

* "If I Ain't Got You" by Alisha Keys

my pearl

reception desk, right arm, torso,
ablaze with late autumnal sunshine
shoulders release a shiver
back eases
into melted mid-morning daze
reflected in twenty-six inch screen
glowing with the warmth of a greater orb
my pearl
that mischievous eye
outshining the chips of coal that frame it
my pearl
breathes, whispers, gossips
tells tales of submersion
of being kissed alive
from grain to gem
like me


Andrew G said...

I love this one and, for the record, I'll win the shoe horn battle.

Sarah Aubrey said...