Quick update sidebar: Our little dog is laying as close as possible without actually laying upon my laptop. Our daughter left this morning for school. She got off without a hitch. The weather was grand all the way, little turbulence, at least she thinks so for she slept most of the way without being jostled awake. Thank you Universe/God/Source... I on the other hand had just a bit of turbulence. Turbulent sobbing that is, as I drove to the jobsite from the airport. Work kept me occupied of mind and body; but upon leaving to go home, I turned on the radio tuned to the station she'd left it at on the way to the airport. Evanesence's "All of Me" was playing. Years ago, when the song was relatively new, I told her someday she would move away and I'd be very happy for her but I would find a quiet place and listen to this song and cry my eyes out. Well, today I did just that in the car. I had to pull over. The funny thing is, I NEVER hear that song on the radio anymore. The last time I did was last year just days after I left her in Georgia for the first time. And, yes, I cried my heart out then too. It seems the universe is keeping me true to my word.... every time...
I don't want to forget to add something my daughter talked about in the car on the way to the airport this morning. We were talking about how beautiful Oregon is and she mentioned that she loves it's beauty but can't help thinking about the hundreds and thousands of venomous snakes out there and that taints it for her. I was surprised by this and tried to wrap my brain around it. I said, "That's like me saying I love hiking but there are billions of spiders out there and so I don't want to go. I try not to think about them or, yeah, I wouldn't go out. So why would I make them visible in my mind's eye?" She didn't quite agree but we talked then about the difference between a Fear and a Phobia. She's mentioned her phobia of snakes to people and their responses range from "Oh, yeah, I hate snakes too." to "What, why do you hate snakes." This bothers her. She doesn't hate snakes. (I don't hate spiders come to think of it) She loves them, thinks they are beautiful. Hate has nothing to do with phobia. She went on then, "and that's the thing about racism too, people say, 'I'm not a racist, I don't hate (fill in blank with a race name).' What they don't see is racism isn't about hate, it's about Fear. We fear what we don't know or understand or can't control, we don't have to hate it to fear it." Very impressive, I thought.
Back to the Chair.... To cheer ourselves, my husband and I went out to First Tuesday Art Walk in a nearby town then to dinner. The galleries were open and so were some of the artists' studios. It was challenging negotiating gingerly between sculptures and glass cases but I've noticed 4 weeks carrying an oak chair around has given me a significant amount of dexterity I lacked before. I had a few people comment they liked the chair and asked if I'd bought it somewhere. I told them the story. One woman who was a bit smaller than myself (I'm 5'4" 110lbs) and perhaps early 60s seemed impressed by the size of it. Then I got to the part of the story where I mention that it had to be bright colors because one of my fears is being visible. Her eyes got wide. She leaned toward me and spoke just a touch softer, "I know about being invisible. In 7th grade, when I flunked the first term, my mother stormed with me to the teacher and she looked at me and said, 'I wouldn't know who she is.' You see I was always small and I never said a word." She gave me a hug. I said, "I get lots of responses to this chair and sometimes I get a hug, thank you." She thanked me as well and wished me well with the project.
Later, as my husband and I sat adjacent to the open "garage door" at the restaurant, the same woman walked past. My husband saw her and waved and said "Hi!" She looked at him and gave a friendly enough wave that said, I'll respond but I don't really know who you are. Then I saw who he'd waved at and I too waved and said a loud "hello!" She turned to me and her eyes did the round thing again and she smiled big and waved a hearty hello. We were visible to one another.