No Soliciting. It's a Sign.

"But I'm not a solicitor... I'm simply peddling my wares."

Is it that I am only prone to picking up on the most obscure & unintentional of signals as opposed to the ones flashing blatantly through the windshield? For a gal who spends far too much time going over the details of the day with a fine-toothed comb, one might think I'd be a bit more.... well... sensitive. Receptive to the deliberately odd goings on throughout my life and recognize that, perhaps, THOSE are the moments which are meant to stand out or remain branded in my mind as opposed to the moments made up to keep things symbolically and hypothetically interesting?

It was only after dedicating a certain level of meticulous consideration to precise moments in time where I clearly NEEDED saving....help.... faith.....SOMETHING....that the 'ol electrically faulty light bulb buzzed to life in some small sense of enlightenment.

The quote at the top of this post: uttered by a mere child of no more than perhaps 14 or so as he stood at our front doorway, holding a mysterious cobalt blue tote on what would normally be little more than an awkwardly early Sunday morning.

In all the chaos and confusion of the moment... calling 911.... the emergency vehicles descending one after another upon our street... the clamor of uniformed strangers entering one by one into the door through the garage, only to exhibit looks of bewilderment at the listless and blue child nestled rigidly upon my shoulder before walking back out again. "I don't have a mask that small! Hey Roy - do you have a small enough mask for the oxygen? Shit. I just don't have one that small"....The voices would echo in and out of my consciousness as I swayed in shock at the false sense of security housed between finally feeling that tiny heart beat murmur back to life again with his little chest pressed to mine - and realizing he wasn't looking.... he couldn't see... he wasn't responding....he couldn't hear... couldn't speak... cry.... Where was the wee creature giggling that deep and marvelous belly laugh what felt like only a handful of moments before?

My Dr. Snicks.

I had re-lived that morning over and over in my head again..... as I had done each time before and each time after. My wee one is growing out of these fits - stronger and more vivacious by the day. He is OK.... But how did I miss it? How could I have forgotten that strange child at the door? Uttering such a hilariously gutsy and obtuse comeback to our stern reminder of the prominently displayed "No Solicitors" sign? In fact, it was out of character to have answered the door in the first place.....

As more and more thought is placed upon the most horrifying or even wondrous events in my life to date, the flood of once-forgotten memories comes smoldering from the woodwork. The signs. They were in the form of peculiar and seemingly remarkable visits from strangers, however brief. Sometimes omens, oftentimes reminders. Clearly this is only the beginning of an epiphany of sorts. Clear as mud as there is still much to uncover... Neigh.


Edenland's Fresh Horses Brigade

2 comments:

  1. Well I love that a 14 year old said "peddling my wares" period. What is he/she, James Joyce? :)

    Ahhh you started this post talking about windshields too - now I will be thinking about frozen chickens decapitating dummies through windshields for at least an hour ;)

    ReplyDelete
  2. HA! RIGHT!?!?!? Who the hell says that, let alone a 14 year old? Color me impressed, to be sure!

    *giggles* I'm going to have to track down that story again - mostly to convince myself I didn't dream it up.... which is possible.... Thank you so much for visiting, though! I'm still dazzled by the prospects of your research!

    ReplyDelete

Kitty

Monday, March 5, 2012

No Soliciting. It's a Sign.

"But I'm not a solicitor... I'm simply peddling my wares."

Is it that I am only prone to picking up on the most obscure & unintentional of signals as opposed to the ones flashing blatantly through the windshield? For a gal who spends far too much time going over the details of the day with a fine-toothed comb, one might think I'd be a bit more.... well... sensitive. Receptive to the deliberately odd goings on throughout my life and recognize that, perhaps, THOSE are the moments which are meant to stand out or remain branded in my mind as opposed to the moments made up to keep things symbolically and hypothetically interesting?

It was only after dedicating a certain level of meticulous consideration to precise moments in time where I clearly NEEDED saving....help.... faith.....SOMETHING....that the 'ol electrically faulty light bulb buzzed to life in some small sense of enlightenment.

The quote at the top of this post: uttered by a mere child of no more than perhaps 14 or so as he stood at our front doorway, holding a mysterious cobalt blue tote on what would normally be little more than an awkwardly early Sunday morning.

In all the chaos and confusion of the moment... calling 911.... the emergency vehicles descending one after another upon our street... the clamor of uniformed strangers entering one by one into the door through the garage, only to exhibit looks of bewilderment at the listless and blue child nestled rigidly upon my shoulder before walking back out again. "I don't have a mask that small! Hey Roy - do you have a small enough mask for the oxygen? Shit. I just don't have one that small"....The voices would echo in and out of my consciousness as I swayed in shock at the false sense of security housed between finally feeling that tiny heart beat murmur back to life again with his little chest pressed to mine - and realizing he wasn't looking.... he couldn't see... he wasn't responding....he couldn't hear... couldn't speak... cry.... Where was the wee creature giggling that deep and marvelous belly laugh what felt like only a handful of moments before?

My Dr. Snicks.

I had re-lived that morning over and over in my head again..... as I had done each time before and each time after. My wee one is growing out of these fits - stronger and more vivacious by the day. He is OK.... But how did I miss it? How could I have forgotten that strange child at the door? Uttering such a hilariously gutsy and obtuse comeback to our stern reminder of the prominently displayed "No Solicitors" sign? In fact, it was out of character to have answered the door in the first place.....

As more and more thought is placed upon the most horrifying or even wondrous events in my life to date, the flood of once-forgotten memories comes smoldering from the woodwork. The signs. They were in the form of peculiar and seemingly remarkable visits from strangers, however brief. Sometimes omens, oftentimes reminders. Clearly this is only the beginning of an epiphany of sorts. Clear as mud as there is still much to uncover... Neigh.


Edenland's Fresh Horses Brigade

2 comments:

  1. Well I love that a 14 year old said "peddling my wares" period. What is he/she, James Joyce? :)

    Ahhh you started this post talking about windshields too - now I will be thinking about frozen chickens decapitating dummies through windshields for at least an hour ;)

    ReplyDelete
  2. HA! RIGHT!?!?!? Who the hell says that, let alone a 14 year old? Color me impressed, to be sure!

    *giggles* I'm going to have to track down that story again - mostly to convince myself I didn't dream it up.... which is possible.... Thank you so much for visiting, though! I'm still dazzled by the prospects of your research!

    ReplyDelete