The other night my daughter Emma hosted an open mic night at the Starbucks in which she works. It was very cool. Customers sitting around drinking coffee and listening to young people play guitar (or ukulele) and singing. There was even a woman reading her original poetry. There was a very modern vibe to the whole event. I was going to say hip, but as far as I can tell hipster is kind of an insult right now, so I’ll stick with cool and modern.
So just picture any TV show with a coffee shop in it. The décor is lovely, everyone is attractive, there’s music in the air. I was feeling very much a part of this sophisticated scene, when my daughter got up to sing. Now I have seen her perform many times and it always makes my heart swell. I am a proud mommy. She sat up on the high stool and adjusted a string on her guitar.
She had chosen “Good Riddance” by Green Day, and there went all my cool, calm collected-ness. I was all tears. May I give the lyrics:
Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right
I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs, and still-frames in your mind
Hang them on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right
I hope you had the time of your life
Maybe it’s just me but I cannot listen to this song without simultaneously worrying that I have wasted my life and being profoundly grateful for all I have experienced. Great, thanks a lot Green Day!
I love taking pictures which is why I am fast running out of storage on my phone. But I also try to make a special effort to make a memory when something wonderful is going on around me. We think we will just automatically remember things, but that is not what happens. Our brains don’t document officially important stuff. I cannot recall one gift I got at my Sweet Sixteen party. Or what I ate or much of what the restaurant looked like. But I do remember squishing about ten of my friends into my Dad’s Oldsmobile to drive them home after the party. It was crazy, we could barely breathe not just because of the crush but because we couldn’t stop laughing. And obviously in 1981 driving rules were a lot more lax.
I literally don’t remember a bit of the pain when having my children. And don’t let anyone tell you C-Sections don’t hurt. I do remember being able to pick out Emma’s cry from all the other babies behind a closed door with no window. I remember the nurse Hazel helping me put on Golde’s first outdoor outfit when we were leaving the hospital. I remember snuggling with Lucas in my hospital bed and just marveling at how beautiful his feet were.
But these are the weird and silly things that have stuck in my brain. The emotions – hilarity, pathos, care, and wonderment – were the hooks that attched them to my memory.
So now when I am experiencing joy, I try to pause and describe what is going on around me to make it “stickier.”
Last night I was walking my dog at dusk and was stunned by the dozens and dozens of fireflies that sparkled around me. I told Felix – because he was the only one there – that they looked like diamonds suspended from the trees by invisible threads. I pointed out to him that my sneakers and his paws were wet from the sudden squall that had passed through a half hour before, that we could smell wet pavement, and, unfortunately, a trash container that the wind had toppled.
I hope this mindfulness about this moment helps me remember it.
The other part of the song that always gets me is the refrain: “It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right, I hope you had the time of your life.”
It is so hard for me to believe that even though, in my gut, I sense that it’s correct. That life is completely unpredictable AND it is right.
I never expected to live in Philadelphia. When we were in Atlanta, there was a job in Florida, for which we sold a house and packed up all our belongings. When that job just evaporated, I was floored. What were we going to do? We knew we wanted to be on the East Coast and in or near a big city. We, probably more flippantly that any sensible people would have done, just picked Philadelphia. We’d spent a few days there before. It seemed cool.
IT SEEMED COOL?
But now more than a decade later, I could not imagine living anywhere else. It is cool. But much more importantly it contains so many friends and loved ones. I have met (or re-met, Lisa L.!!!!) the people who have given me so much love and support, who challenge me and make me laugh.
None of that seemed possible the first few days we were here. We were living in a hotel and it was Golde’s birthday. She wanted to go to the Franklin Institute, so we decided to we would buy a family membership so we go back again and again. The museum employee asked me for our address. My breath caught. I had no address to give him.
We were homeless and the tears just flowed. I knew it was temporary but our lives had just been unceremoniously overturned and I was worried that my children would suffer from the chaos. At that moment I had no faith that in the end it would be right.
But it was. All my kids found their friends and their paths here in Philadelphia. In the end it – the move – was right.
And I have to keep reminding myself that. I was watching my beautiful adult daughter sing Good Riddance, knowing that sooner than I would like she will be moving out on her own. That will be an adjustment for me – an empty nest. And who knows what other forks stuck in the road will challenge me to have faith. I just have to relax and allow time to grab me by the wrist and direct me where to go.
Yes, thank you Green Day.
luxfolium 