What a strange phrase. Who came up with this one? It sounds entirely trite for such an immensity. Falls short.

“my roommate and I weren’t really compatible.”

“is this cord compatible with your cell phone?”

Incompatible with life.

Huge, helpless, grief for any parent hearing these words.

My dear friend will meet her baby tomorrow. She has heard these words.

I am supposed to be there with her. Should have been on a plane today. But I’m waiting on a post due client and cannot go. I suppose that means I’m really not meant to be with my friend. And I’ve always trusted God to get me to the births I’m meant to attend. I believe this one is the first I’ve missed.

So here I sit. Feeling helpless and aching for my friend. Praying for her body and her emotions. Praying for her amazing husband. Praying that they will grieve with abandon yet it will not freeze them. Praying for peace and beauty. Yes, even beauty in this terrible birth.

She once sent me this poem and I post a fragment as hope to all of us.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”

“When I am among the trees” by Mary Oliver

Sweet friend, go easy and be filled. Even as your arms feel empty.

I’ve had two embarrassing run-ins with my neighbor. 

Our neighbors are wonderful and we love them.  We’ve known them a long time and that is a good thing because they would surely think I’m crazy otherwise.

The first event happened last year sometime.  I came home and found my kitchen rug sitting on the front porch.  Why?  Why would that be?  The only thing I could imagine was a burglar used it to carry out something heavy.  Which would be what?  What heavy object in my house is worth stealing?  The cupboard?  Wooden dollhouse?  Bed?  We don’t have any fancy electronics.  So, yeah, unlikely.  But why was my kitchen rug on the porch??  I digress.

So I walked next door to my neighbor.  Mr. Police Officer.  He came over and searched my house with gun in hand.  Gave me the all clear.  When I went inside, I noticed the floors were wet from mopping and the counters were suspiciously sparkly clean.  I realized I wasn’t robbed.  My house was stealth cleaned by an unknown intruder.  Love my mom!  And wish I’d inspected the house before involving the neighbor.

Next episode:  yesterday.  For the past, oh, TWO YEARS, I’ve put Cedar down for a nap in the afternoon.  I always tell Norah to be quiet because I’m putting Cedar to sleep.  It sometimes takes 30 minutes.  Sometimes I fall asleep.  For whatever reason, yesterday, Norah completely ignored me when I did the usual, “I’m putting Cedar down, stay quiet” speech. 

She was in the adjoining room playing. 

I did fall asleep.  And woke feeling unnerved.  I walked down the hall and heard, “Julie!” in a deep male voice.  After jumping out of my skin, I found Mr. Police Officer in my living room.  This time holding his newborn baby rather than a gun (awww).  Norah had not been able to find me (!!!) and per our drill when needing help, went next door to the neighbors. 

A groggy and embarrassed (and slightly confused) me assured Norah that I was in the room next to hers the whole time!  While trying not to look like an unfit mother in front of my neighbor! 

Sigh.  At least Cedar hasn’t called 911 in awhile…

Did you know that the first American city to celebrate Mardi Gras was Mobile Alabama?  Who would have thought?  And it continues to be the place to celebrate family-friendly Mardi Gras.  Is this a well known fact and am I simply out of the loop?   

My husband’s sweet Alabaman, Alabamian, er,  friend from Alabama is named Harriet.  And she sent some of Mobile’s Mardi Gras joy to us this week. 

Norah, Cedar, and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Auntie Harriet but we’ve made her an honorary member of the family.  I’ve heard she’s the grandest outfitter in all of Alabama.  If you’re in the area, stop in at Fairhope Boat Company and say hello to Harriet.  I don’t know this for certain but my gut feeling is that Harriet gives good hugs and fantastic hospitality.  I sure hope I’m in the area one day.

Oh, and the gift I got?  A hand-made reversible bag.  I love it!!  Thanks Auntie Harriet!

I keep flashing back to this one moment after Cedar was born.  It was afternoon the next day.  I’m in bed wrapped in a sarong.  Scott is in the kitchen cooking something yummy for me and Carey just brought me some Mother’s Milk Tea. 

My dear friends are here.  Abby is one on side of the bed.  Carey is at the foot.  Cassandra is giving me an acupuncture treatment.  My Aunt Helen is meeting Cedar for the first time in another room.  Norah rushes in, sees the needles in her mommy and worries we’ll put them in her. 

We laugh and chat while the needles do their thing.  I, of course, do something clutzy.  I run my fingers through my hair forgetting there is a needle in my scalp and pull it right out. 

I don’t know why this moment stays with me so vividly.  The sense of community, perhaps?  A gift that motherhood has given me beyond my children is this new community of women. 

A rich icing on the cake.