Monday, January 08, 2007

Back in the saddle, then running screaming from the horse

I made it. It is 7:05 PM and all of my students have come and gone. Four blissful hours of laughing, music, catching up, and barely thinking about being sad. I'm glad I started back today. It was exhausting though and lonely when they left. My first student asked me politely if I had had a good Christmas. She was old enough that I could say, "No, not really. It stunk." She understood.

There was only one moment of pure anxiety. It was over a milkshake. Lovely wanted a milkshake and without going into the completely boring details, the world was against us on our quest for a freaking milkshake. We finally had success, but not before I had to pull over and compose myself for a moment.

I talked to one friend today. My hairdresser and friend, who I have not given a nickname yet. I'm open to suggestions for that one. She is tall and beautiful, patient and kind. And she tames my mane and brows which take immense talent. Anyone got a good name? Anyway, she didn't know about the baby yet. I had left her a voicemail earlier in the day and when she called me back, she immediately asked me what was wrong. Was I okay? Was the baby okay?

I was able to answer her and tell her what happened with only a little crying. It was easier than I thought it would be. Here's the thing though, I had honestly tried to sound upbeat on my message. That was me trying to sound happy. Crap.

Guy told me the other night that my eyes look sad. I asked him if they would always look sad now. He said no, but I wonder.

There was a photo on the cover of National Geographic when I was a child. It was of a little girl in the Middle East. Her eyes were so beautiful and intense. They were vibrant and looked through the camera into your eyes and said, "Tell me things I've never heard. Show me the world. Let me grow up and learn everything there is to learn." A couple of years ago, they went and found the child who had become a woman, wife, and mother. The men of the house let them film her and try to recreate the picture that had been captured years before. Her eyes were not the same. The color was different. The luster was dull. They said nothing.

I wonder if she had lost a child.