Solitude

The big day is tomorrow and my head is too full to think of other things. Until today, I hadn't realized how many changes will really be taking place in my life. Today, I feel strange and unsure of myself.

While on my favorite message board, I came across a thread asking for our favorite poems. Here's one by Ella Wheeler Wilcox that I thought was really good to remember:

Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

"Pearl"

One group that I've long enjoyed is Mediaeval Baebes. Using classical instruments and voice, they breathe new life into old literature and lyrics from centuries ago. Lyrics are sung in a variety of languages: Latin, French, Italian, Old English, Middle English, and German. This one is one of my favorites. It is an excerpt from an anonymous work entitled "Pearl":

The dubberment dere of down and dales
Of wode and water and wlonk plaines
Bilde in me bliss, abated my bales
Forbidden my stress, destroyed my paines
Down after a strem that drightly hales
I bowed in bliss, bredful my branes
The firre I folwed those floty vales
The more strength of joye myn herte straines
As fortune fares theras ho fraines
Whether solace ho sende other elles sore
The wye to wham hir wille ho waines
Hittes to have ay more and more

More of wele was in that wise
Than I couth telle thagh I tom hade
For erthly herte might not suffise
To the tenthe dole of tho gladness glade
For thy I thoght that paradise
Was there other gain tho bonkes brade
I hoped the water were a devise
Between mirthes by meres made
Beyonde the brook, by slent other slade
I hoped that mote inerked wore
Bot the water was depe, I dorst not wade
And ever me longed ay more and more

More and more and yet well mare
Me liste to see the brook beyonde
For if hit was fair there I can fare
Well loveloker was the firre londe
Aboute me con I stote and stare
To finde a forth faste con I fonde
Bot wothes mo ywis there ware
The firre I stalled by the stronde
And ever me thoght I shokle not wonde
For wo there weles so winne wore
Thenne newe note me com on honed
That meved my minde more and more

My wedding day is almost here.

My husband and I have been "common law" for 4 years, but we've always intended on making it legal. After 2 date changes, the wedding day is finally on for this Saturday, and yet, the nervousness that we are expected to feel isn't really there. Perhaps it's that we've already been together for some time and that the ceremony will be at its most basic, lacking the pomp and circumstance that often goes with a wedding. There will be no bridesmaids or best men, no flower girl or ring bearer, no honeymoon, no formal wedding gown or tuxedo. There is also no reception or wedding cake to enjoy after the event. The ceremony will be done in a matter of a few minutes, my mother-in-law will take our son for the night to give us a rare chance to be alone, and we'll likely fall asleep watching TV together.

My husband was married once before to someone who wreaked havoc on his life and made him leery about remarrying when we met. Even when we discussed and agreed (there was no romantic proposal) to marry, we didn't have the means to do so, as we were struggling to make ends meet, so this prolonged our time as common law husband and wife. We also have a beautiful son who requires a lot of time and energy as a result of medical problems. My husband is on the road 98% of the time and I manage life at home the best I can. We still struggle, but life is finally bringing some good fortune our way.

This is my first marriage and it concerns me that I lack the sense of excitement that a first-time bride should feel. For me, my day will rank just above "the daily grind." I still find myself thinking in a singular manner: "My son" rather than "our son," or when giving our son a gift, I often forget to write "From Mommy and Daddy," I write "From Mommy." I never felt the sense of urgency to call my mother, who still lives a 1000 miles away in Ohio to tell her that we were finally getting married. She wound up finding out from my mother-in-law via email when being asked to help with the wedding costs (which she said she was unable to do--no surprise). My mother-in-law forgot to check with me to see if I had told my mother before she sent the email. Mother never congratulated us and has seemed indifferent to the occasion even though she was upset that we didn't cater to her timeline and set a date that would allow her to attend. The problem with that is, there is no way of us knowing when that will ever be. My in-laws, however, have been very supportive and thrilled about the event, and have helped with the expenses to make it happen.

It has taken me less than 1 month to plan the event, and we managed to acquire our marriage license, outfits, and accessories in less than 2 days. My own dress is nice, but can be worn repeatedly for other nice occasions - nothing fancy. My husband generally never dresses up (truckers seldom require good clothes), so his clothes will wind up hanging in the closet for an untold length of time before they are needed again. Our son's outfit will be outgrown before this year is over. Is this a bad omen? I wonder....

Back to the classroom

Since I entered the classroom as a substitute teacher, I realized how much I truly enjoy being in school, be it in the capacity of a student or instructor. I'll finally be in the classroom as an aide on a full-time basis this fall, but this doesn't sate my craving for more learning. If I could be a career student, I would happily do so. Amid grumbles of studying for tests and such, I would much rather spend my days taking classes, writing term papers, and taking exams than anything else. I plan on returning to school for non-credit algebra classes out of necessity, but lately, I've been thinking that along with those math courses, I should also include other classes out of sheer interest to keep my mind nimble.

One of the things I miss most about being a student is the intellectual stimulation I received from classroom discussions. I have no one among my circle of family and friends whom I can go to to have conversations requiring mental gymnastics and critical thinking. I can feel my brain getting soft from the want of this exercise, and I'm worried that my skills at critical thinking have become rusty. I long for more classes involving the study of literature, creative writing, and philosophy, and the closer the new school year gets, the stronger the pull is to take these courses. I think this may be the key to my sanity as my life gradually becomes busier and busier. The classroom has become my refuge.

The dishes can wait.

Like many people, I get caught up in the daily tasks that need to be done. Since my son was one, I have largely been home on a full-time basis, so I have been able to take care of errands with relative ease throughout the course of each day. However, since my son's medical diagnosis and my return to work (part-time), I have returned to that sometimes frenetic pace of getting as much done in the course of a single day as I can. Often, my son must tag along, and my poor boy ends up with more car time than play time. Amid the more hectic pace, I have slowly worked towards being less impatient with completing tasks. I have learned to intersperse play time with work time and to stop and watch my John revel in carefree play, unaware of more serious issues that worry his parents.

In August, quality time will become even more precious. Our free moments of play and cuddles will be fewer. When the new school year begins, life will bring a whole new set of errands, activities, and challenges. I was just hired for a new position and will be working full-time as a Special Ed. teacher's aide; my son will find himself attending a special pre-K program for children with disabilities. He will find himself in daycare daily and on the road more as I try to take care of errands after work that I once could complete over the course of the day. I will also continue my music rehearsals and reenter school to learn Algebra for my teacher certification exams.

However, one thing that has gradually become a ritual and will remain intact is cuddle time. Around 8:30 every evening, I gather my son in my arms, his tummy full, and his body bathed and dressed in his bed clothes. I plop the two of us into the rocker recliner, cover us up in a small throw blanket, lift up the foot rest, and cuddle with him until 9:00, when it is time for him to be tucked into bed. We watch a little TV. Sometimes, he is tired enough that he will wriggle out of my arms to reposition himself on his side and across my lap to lay down. When it is nearly 9:00, I gather him up in my arms again, get up, and carry him to his bed, tucking him in with 4 kisses on his cheek: 1 for "I love you," 1 for "Sweet dreams," 1 for "I'll see you in the morning," and 1 for "You were a good boy today." When cuddle time comes, all activity stops and everything is dropped. I only resume my tasks after John has been put to bed. As he gets older, I'm sure this ritual will change. He will deem kisses from Mommy "yucky" and will insist on going to bed on his own. For now, I will take advantage of my opportunities for holding him close. The dishes can wait...my little boy won't.