Richer than the Sum of My Skirt

My favorite skirt ripped last night as my son, 11, helped me take the clothes off the twisted rope hanging across my backyard. It caught on the rough tin edge of the garden shed as I swung it from line to basket, tore an uneven aqua letter L across the right butt cheek.

"Mom! That's your favorite skirt!"

11 looked worried. He reached over, tried to pat the fraying L back into the fabric.

"What are you gonna do? Mom? Can you fix it? Can you buy a new one? You never buy new clothes."

I smiled, reached my arms to give 11 a hug. He smelled like the sun-baked clothes, like the ozone of our frequent monsoon afternoons, like new school pencils and little boy dirt. I realized with a start that he'd finally reached my height.

"Why would I want to buy a new skirt? I'd just look like everyone else! It's just a piece of fabric, honey. I can make a cool patch to go over the rip. Maybe you can help me design something fabulous!"

I stretched out the word fabulous like I was a flaming gay television designing evangelist, ready to preach the gospel of style. 11 laughed, struck a fashion icon's vogue pose, and pursed his lips in elegant thought. The setting sun caught the highlights in his dark hair, made him seem even taller than a moment ago, made him shine retro, handsome, like some old 40's photograph and I tried to grab it, grab the sun, his hair, his height, his lopsided smile like mine, tried to frame it forever in some sturdy neural pathway.

Oh, please, please, please. Always be this boy, always be this connected to me, to the dirt on our shoes.

I pretended to take his picture with my hands held in front of my eyes in an angled square. I didn't want him to see the tear forming in the corner of my left eye. A yellow swallowtail butterfly glided by, landed on our basket of laundry for just a second. Just a second.

Everything goes so fast. I want to slow time, slow that butterfly, slow all of this, my backyard, the rising grass, the bunnies growing fat and sleek in their cozy hutch.

As the sky grew dark my sons both drew fanciful designs of starships and planetoids, the perfect foils for an exposed rump. I chose one design from each, hauled out my old Singer and covered the rip with a red picnic-check UFO. I added a long-tailed silver comet to the other side of the skirt, turned and sewed, slowly, slowly, watched the needle dragonfly down in the ritual my gramma taught me three decades ago. I hemmed two pairs of school pants, darned a couple of socks, tucked the boys into bed, and called it a night.

We walked to school this morning, walked the mile-and-a-half, me in my fabulous new galactic aqua skirt, my boys in freshly hemmed khakis. The morning wind lifted my skirt in the ways I liked, let a bit of this thigh show, then the other. My cowboy boots stomped on the sidewalk. I could feel the cool air rise through the bottom of my right foot where I stepped on a rail spike. Torn skirt, holy boot, pants to let out, beans and rice, walk instead of drive, hanging clothes in the sun, I chanted a silent litany of all the ways I desperately saved pennies. So many years. So few pennies. A blackbird squawked as we crossed a street lined with scraggly cedars. He dropped a feather in our path, and we hovered near the storm cistern as the feather twisted in an expanding spiral toward our heads.

I made the right decision. I've been a stay at home mom all these years, gave up a lifetime of career, a lifetime of adult interaction, years of slightly better comfort, better clothes, nice things to own. It's hard, but I know it's right. Avon barely pays these damn bills. But look what you have, just look. Look.

I watched my boys run ahead, run into the rising sun. 11 stopped short, turned quick as he forgot something important at home. I braced myself for a run west.

"Mom!"

11 ran to me. His backpack slapped against his shoulders one beat behind his feet.

"Yeah? Forget something, honey?"

"Yes! I did!"

11 held out his arms and tackled me in a bear hug.

"I forgot to tell you how cool your skirt looks."

Comments

[Shrexy]

It's so tempting to describe the destination of that UFO !! but i resist :-)

Life's richness isnt in any form monetary, its teh hundreds and thousands of little things that remind you of why you savour drawing your breaths, wiping secreted tears and smiling for all the world like an imbecile when you know its really because a childs hug can mend a torn dress. :-)

[Shrexy]

oh...a pic up on right is required me thinks :-)

[Carroll]

Oh my goodness, Birdie. Of all the tears your writing has jerked so unexpectedly from my eyes, I believe this one's produced the biggest gusher. What many-layered treasures you capture with these words. Hold him tight, B. Hold him tight. As you well-know, he'll be grown and gone before you know it. And yes, you made the right decision, my dear. The memories you've shared with your kids? Worth far far more than any worldly luxury a different kind of sacrifice might have bought for your good family. Hold tight to it all, B.

[Wandering Willow]

:-) !!!

[I.]

I've said this before, but it's still so true, and I hope it always is: Birdie, you have the best kids. And they have the best mom.

[Louise]

Work used to be a means to an end, but it's often a status thing now.
But have you noticed this nobility of work? It doesn't even matter how lowly or unimportant the job might be. It's like it's got to be better than being a mother at home with kids.

You have it right Birdie!!!!!!!! These treasured moments, that extra hug for you from 11 because he loves you so much? Nothing is better than that.
You rock!

[matt]

technorati tag: rich

[barbie2be]

birdie, you have got the coolest kids. :)

[gpavon]

Birdie, you made the right decision, you're teaching your kids that money isn't everything.

[nancy]

What a beautiful post, Birdie! I soooo understand wanting to slow time down. You did do the right thing; but you already know that. ;->

[Louise]

Shrexy has the right idea. Hows about a photo of said dress?

[Carroll]

Speaking of Shrexy...THERE's that "teh", and the lower case letters! It really *is* our old friend, Shrek. That newfangled disguise can't fool us any more, Mister. You're still big, and green, and we're ever-so-glad you're back!

:-)

[Paige]

this is one of my favorite Birdie posts ever. maybe I'm just a sappy mama, but it's a perfect story, perfectly told. And I, too, want to see a picture of the revised, reborn skirt....xo

[Shrexy]

thankyou for your kind words Carroll...strangely enough I knew it was me all along !!! :-))

Birdie...pictures gal...pictures..

I might have suggested instead of a alien craft...you could hav had Marvin !! spruiking ...Kaboom !! there's supposed to be a Kaboom !!!! :-))

[Pandora]

Your love for them oozes from every word. Well done, Birdie.

[barbara gerbasi]

What a heart warming and wretching story. It was so well wrtten that I could see the wash, the rip, and the repair. When you write like you do Birdie, there is no need for pictures.
What a woman!!
Cheers,
Barb

[Birdie]

Ok! I will have 11 take an "action" shot of me in the skirt tonight, hanging laundry or something!

Thanks for all the kind words. I have attempted many things in this life, failed at all of them, all but being a mom. I'm grateful I have the best kids in the universe!!

And I'm also grateful that I have all of you as friends, too.

[Birdie]

TOLD ya it was Shrek!! I love the Shrexy!!! YAY!!!!

[Shrexy]

""""I have attempted many things in this life, failed at all of them,.... """""

bad gurl...bad gurl... dont ever say that again...thats a pitcher you owe me as pennance !! lol

[Jedd]

I am with Shrexy -
Birdie, you clearly succeed at expressing yourself beautifully. Obviously through words, and I am sure just as obviously through dance, and just the way you be – how you live. All the rest stems from that, hence no failure, just (to use a ‘favorite’ Northern California expression) “Learning Opportunities”. Though in your case, they are clearly also “Ideas for Stories”.
You rock.

[Wandering Willow]

I agree that the supposed failures are actually A.F.G.O.'s. Are you familiar with that expression?

"Another F***in' Growth Opportunity" !!!

[Birdie]

Shrexy and Jedd, thanks for your kind words. I am so tired tonight! A big storm going on, tomorrow is order input day, and I'm behind on everything. Ah, it all works out. Somehow!!!

Bonnie, too funny!!!!!

[Rick]

Bird, when the guys grow up, they will have such vivid and wonderful memories of this time in thier lives. So will you. This is a really sweet story in which your love for your boys just beams. Thanks as always for lettin' us in.
Diz

[marsha]

Arhhhh you have a wonderful parent child bond it will never be broken no matter how quick time goes....

I do know how you feel though its just not enough time...

I think I need to go and give my girls some love you have left me all overcome with emotion.....

best wishes to you and your boys...
lots of love
marsha

[Kristin]

Congratulations on your Perfect Post Award (I linked here from Suburban Turmoil) and I am so glad for the opportunity to have found your blog...

I love the solution to the skirt... thank you for reminding me that so many moments can be beautiful.

[Jules]

This is just beautiful, the ideas, the thoughts and the writing. Came here via Monty at the Daily Bitch. Love it.

[~Tim]

Monty sent me. I'm so glad she did.

[Birdie]

Kristen, Jules, and TIm, thank you, thank you so kindly for stopping by and saying Hello. : )

[rick mobbs]

Hey Birdie, This is beautiful and I can relate personally - from a dad's perspective - to so much of it. The beauty of the child, of his love and interest and the chill pang of the nightmare of loss, and the sudden desperate prayer for protection...