Sunday, September 7, 2008

Cryin in the Bathroom

September 7.

It's 5:10 in the morning. I have to pee like a horse so I figure now's the time. I slip downstairs in the dark, naked and cold. First light isn't even fingering the tops of the trees yet in the back yard as I unwrap the package. There's a three minute wait. I place it window up, put my elbows on my knees and cover my eyes as I lean my head into my hands. I count the first minute to myself silently and decide I can't stay here. Back in the living room now, I turn on my iPod. Wrapping a throw around me, the song that hits the silence of that early morning is Casimir Pulaski Day. I figure this can take up the remaining two minutes. I am contemplating starting a fire in the woodstove, sitting on the couch, hugging my knees against my tits and can't help but begin to weep. This happened yesterday, too, right out of the blue as I stood at the sink, washing the dishes. That time it was Fred's Water in the Fuel and I got all choked up.

I am trying to gather the courage to walk back into that bathroom. My knees feel funny. 'Course they look funny. This has been a long road: 10 years since the first time I saw that double line; 5 years since I last saw it. My mind flashes back to me bleeding all over that examination table, whispering to you to come back when you were ready. In the back of the car on the way home, my sister said she could hear my screams through three sets of doors as she sat with her husband in the waiting room at Women's College Hospital. It was so goddamn hard to lose you. Both times.

I take a deep breath and stand. Sufjan is singin 'bout untied shoes and the great divide. I know all about the complications you could do without and how he takes and he takes and he takes. Too many bloody months in a row. Fucking years. I am whispering please, please, please... My mouth feels parched.

The bathroom door zooms out away from me like one of those surreal hallway scenes in some movie as the blood rushes to my head. I'm dizzy. My feet feel as though they are moving in Slo Mo. My body feels under water. Turning my head as I enter, I peek over and there you are. Thick and dark as can be. I catch my breath, mouth agape, knees quivering, caving. You're back. I can't control the tears now. I am whispering, thank you, thank you, thank you... A month ago, I sat outside all night bleeding and wishing on the Perseids and here a shooting star just fell into my hand. It will be hours before I can tell another soul. But I have you with me so I'm not alone. I am no longer alone 'cause you're back. You're here.

oh the glory that the lord has made

It's 5:15am on Sunday, September 7, 2008 and my heart just exploded.

Music: Casimir Pulaski Day, Sufjan Stevens

1 comment:

Carrie said...

This piece is gorgeous, Nancy. Very moving. I'm so glad for you. You looked radiant on Saturday; your babe is treating you well.