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So it’s to be a relay. Oh, good, this is her favorite event.
Bang! The starter gun fired and she dove into the lane. Yikes, she was the first one out! She needed to set the pace for the whole relay team! My heart jumped into my throat, which was a bit dangerous since I was screaming with all my might to cheer her on. You see, we parents think our kids can actually hear us shouting even though they are underwater. Oh, just let us have our fantasy.
Was that a flip turn? From the girl who refused to ever put her face in the water? Wow. They really do grow up in the blink of an eye. There she was, pumping her arms like pistons. I watched her head turn to grab a quick breath with the regularity of a machine. I was lost in a tidal wave of memories and emotions.
Wait a second; she’s in the lead. She’s in the lead! My baby is winning! Go, Darcy!
It still gives me a shiver just to think about it. I don’t remember if her team won the relay, or even if her school emerged victorious over Trinity. All I remember was the look of fierce determination on her face during the race, and then the ear-to-ear smile she flashed me when it was over.
“Did you see that, Mom?” I sure did.
At the end of the meet I asked the coach if I could ride the bus back to school (I wanted to save the taxi fare back to the East Side). “Of course!” he said. “Ride with us!”
What I wasn’t prepared for was how excited Darcy got about me participating in her life this way.
“Really? You’re going to ride on the bus with us? That’s so great!” she said. “C’mon. You have to have the whole experience.”
She took my hand and pulled me toward the locker room. “Look. You can see behind the scenes.”
I felt embarrassed about going with her, but I was so glad that she wanted me to come. She wanted her friends to meet me, and she wanted me to see into her life, too. “Look, everybody! My mom is in the locker room!”
She laughed and went off to use the bathroom, leaving me near the crowd of seventh graders who were changing, talking, and laughing. The hot topic today was the upcoming puberty classes at school (aka Sex Ed).
“I have to be in a discussion group with Ryan! Can you believe that? I am going to be soooo embarrassed.”
“It’s worse for me; there are only two girls in my group — the rest are all boys, like Martin, Jeremy and ... ewwww ... Justin!”
Darcy came back to rescue me and we headed for the bus. She negotiated where her friends would sit, since I was disrupting the usual arrangements. She proudly sat next to me on the hard green school-bus seats near the front. I was so thrilled that my thirteen-year-old still liked having me around and wasn’t (yet) trying to pretend she didn’t know me in front of her friends.
This was a moment I will cherish forever. I believe Darcy will, too. For the rest of my life, I can have that feeling, that memory, that thrill at any time, in any place. Those moments are burned into my heart forever. Take that, Mr. Smelly!
The Joy of Waffles
A woman I know named Michelle told me a story about waffles. Not about eating them, although that’s part of it. Remember, even though scarfing down a big batch of Belgian waffles, slathered in strawberry goo and topped with a mountain of whipped cream, is true happiness in my book, in the book you’re reading we’re dealing with joy; a deeper, more ultimately satisfying emotion. Even when it comes to waffles.
Michelle has two nephews she just adores — and they adore their aunt Michelle. She often has them over to her home for sleepovers when her sister is traveling. One of their favorite pastimes is to snuggle up on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn and watch movies together. Being ages six and three and being boys, the sillier the movie, the better. Their favorite is that classic tale of knights in shining armor, fairy-tale princesses, dragon slayings, and other such noble goofing around: Shrek. For those of you who haven’t seen the movie or read the book by William Steig, the story is a very clever send-up of the old “prince rescues a princess, they fall in love, and live happily ever after” saga. The prince, in this case, is an unlikely hero in that he’s a great, green ogre (voiced by Mike Myers in one of his best performances) named Shrek. His comic sidekick is a talking donkey (brilliantly portrayed by Eddie Murphy) who tags along helping/bothering the big green guy with some of the most delightful comic banter since Abbott and Costello.
Here’s where the waffles come in. In one of the early scenes, despite Shrek’s objections, Donkey convinces his new buddy to let him spend a night at his house. He excitedly goes on and on about how they’re going to “stay up late, swap manly stories ... and in the morning, I’m gonna make waffles!”
Murphy’s hysterically funny delivery of this line became an iconic moment in this hugely successful film, and lives near and dear to almost everyone who sees it — particularly Michelle’s nephews. Not only do they love this line that makes them giggle whenever they hear it, they love to eat waffles. So, what do you think Auntie Michelle makes for them every time they visit? You got it. Before they arrive, Michelle gleefully goes shopping and tries to find the creamiest whipped cream, their favorite choices of toppings, and the tastiest batter. Just thinking about their little faces around the breakfast table brings her an overwhelming sense of joy.
Michelle’s entire persona lit up when she told me this story. That’s the way joy works. It can wash over you like a wave. The catalyst comes from anywhere — a look from a loved one, a memory that pops into your head, a smell, a taste, a piece of music, and, yes, even waffles!
Excerpted from “Live Your Joy” by Bonnie St. John. Copyright (c) 2009. reprinted with permission from Hachette Book Group.
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