This morning I sat chatting with mom and dad. Somehow we got onto the subject of when I was a baby, and mom told me that I was a 'pretty baby' and that people used to come up and admire her 'beautiful baby'. I was astonished. I've seen my baby pictures and, frankly, have never been impressed. Adalie... now that's a beautiful baby. I was just... normal. Short brown hair. Brown eyes. Small overbite. But, according to mom, I turned heads.
She told me that, in fact, she would take me into the hospital where I was born and the nurses would line up to hold me and take me around the place. "You were not just cute, but you were Dr. Curran's granddaughter, and to be seen holding you was huge. Dr. Curran, my grandfather, wasn't just a practicing physician at Arcade Hospital, he was one of the founding physicians of the hospital; the man had a PHONE in his car!
So. The feeling that overcame me after mom shared this news with me was peace. I looked at her and, with all the sincerity I could put forth said: I was someone important? Mom and dad were silent. I gazed at the floor, smiling; I simply couldn't believe this. Me? Someone to be seen with? Holy Moly!! It was a brand new identity for me; I felt like another person, someone not myself. I've always been the leaner; the reacher: always reaching to be with the important person. I'll be spending some time now thinking about how to deal with; how to index this revelation about myself. I think I'm going to like it.
No comments:
Post a Comment