All of creation is set up to measure time - the sun and moon, the tides, women's bodies, seasons. All of creation responds to the prompts. Birds fly north and south. Animals give birth in season. Very soon my jousting hummingbirds will no longer squeak at my veranda's end.
All measures of time.
This morning my newly crowned 16 year old backed out of Hillcrest Cottage's driveway in the manual transmission Jeep he 'stole' from Dad. He was so proud to be finally emancipated...cleared to drive solo. He had done what no other Kinley brother had been willing to do - learn how to manage a manual transmission in our very hilly town.
Yesterday, on his Labor day 'holiday', Davis had spent 3 hours at football practice, mowed and weed-eated our entire property, then, had meticulously washed the Jeep. All this work doesn't even include the half day he had earlier spent vacuuming, spot cleaning the carpet, and discovering at least 4 ant colonies thriving beneath the Jeep's carpet.
Let's just say Dad hadn't paid much attention to the asthetics of his Jeep. "It's a Jeep" had been his standard mantra for 10 years.
Soon a new top will be arriving. Davis has 'plans' to lift the Jeep, put on huge wheels, a light kit, new speakers, and the list goes on. (No...to most of that...btw, but don't tell him I said that.). He has even more plans to take the car mudding and has already permanently moved the radio station from NPR to the local country station.
"Mom, we live in Arkansas. We have to be rednecks," he now informs me with a wide grin on his face.
This morning I listened to the Jeep's familiar rattle as it drove down Lee Avenue away from Hillcrest Cottage and...
It was only yesterday when the little black Volvo had returned to the University. All this change is overwhelming. Suddenly, I find myself looking in the mirror.
Hmmmmm. It's you...again. It's been about 20 years since I have paid you any attention.
All the whirlwind of activity is winding down like my great grandmother's mantle clock...which could never keep proper time but kept on being passed down to someone anyway.
I'm left looking at myself...me...the soon to not be 'the mom' me. These boys of mine are phasing me out. I'm an intuitive 'bird', and I'm reading the seasons. The time has come for me to ask and to answer...
who am I?
Do you ever wonder who you are ...beyond all the labels that life gives you?