The boys are so independent now that they have a car. I barely see them, which is in the nature of things, I suppose. They are home, and then gone, and then home again to eat huge amounts of food, and then off they go again! I miss driving them places, with those long deep talks that cars seem to eventuate.
These sons, who have gone largely un-noticed in my writings of late, so much focus on that brief brilliant visit of the girls.
Nick, my performer, the artist, the one with the pure clear singing voice, the self-doubter, the tall long-boned tree of a young man, the bluest of eyes, the widest of smiles, the affectionate, the lover of all things beautiful. The one who did not pass his driver's test the first time, to his great chagrin, the one who missed me the two days I was in Vermont.
Matthew, who did pass his driver's test, and felt the guilt of a twin for doing so. The one who flows through life, who makes people laugh, including his brother, who still loses everything, struggles to keep track of his possessions, who has a different, more lateral way of thinking. The one who is careful of people's feelings, who knows when I am sad.
These boys who both hug me to their chests, towering over me, who brush their teeth next to me, all of us still sharing a bathroom amicably. They look at each other and themselves, and me, in the big bathroom mirror over the sink, making fun of my small size, laughing at me, the one who has become small, such a strange thing, this life which makes you the shortest one of your entire family! When they were little, after their bath we would dress them in front of a similar large mirror at 16 Cross Street, and then we would sometimes ask them, "Who's Matty?" or "Who's Nick?" and they wouldn't know, they were still so close to that oneness in the womb, they would point at the other, then, with faces like a question, confusedly at themselves. Tim and I would laugh and laugh at these dear little creatures we had made, two at the same time, how amazing!
These boys who make me tea with honey and Marie biscuits to dunk, and then sit drinking and dipping with me at the kitchen table, telling me stories of their days with their friends, how they jump from high cliffs into the sea, or from a 30 foot tower into the reservoir. How boys love these thrills, these challenges! These boys who hate to see me cry, these big strong men who were once my tiny silky-haired babies, not so long ago, but their whole lifetimes ago.
Today I ran 2.68 miles (4.31 km). The first three went really well, although I had forgotten to put on my watch and was not carrying a cellphone, so I don't know how fast I was, but I tried to keep a good pace, which turned out to be too fast, because I ran out of steam completely! Aaargh! My heart was pounding in my head, and I felt at times very high off the ground (which is wrong because as I mentioned before I am rather short) and at other times I could see every leaf and grain of soil on the ground before me, I was that close!
A strange angled drawing. What an enormous nose I possess!
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