Dru Blood - I believe in the inherent goodness of all beings: Mining for Cole.

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Mining for Cole.

October 22, 2007

It's Cole's birthday week this week. Wednesday will be his 7th bday. Seven. My baby is seven.

For me, Cole's birthday marks both one of the best and worst times of my life. Of course, it was wonderful to give birth to such an amazing little guy. The birth, which occurred at my home in my bed surrounded by people I cared about after a day spent visiting friends in a sort of peaceful haze of pain, was one of the proudest moments I've ever experienced. But there were less joyful circumstances surrounding his birth, as well. And the subsequent few years were very difficult for all of us.

Things are better now. For now. I try to be hopeful without being stupid about it. But still I tend to look back and cringe at all Cole didn't get in his first few years that Monk did get. Mostly little things. Because Cole did get a lot more of my time, but I'm not sure that he got as much of my focused attention.

I am thinking I need to dig up my journals from his first few years of life, because last night I was reading a journal from Monk's first few years and witnessing the joy of having that little person in my life and I just don't remember writing about Cole in the same way. Which is not to say that I wasn't happy with him. That child has always had an infectiously sweet way about him, even when he was a tiny infant who wouldn't sleep unless he was at least touching me and usually not even unless he was laying on my chest or cradled in the sling. And I know that second, third, fourth, etc., children usually suffer a dearth of memory books and remembrances of firsts, but the problem is that I don't remember things unless I write them down...and I am worried that I just didn't pay as much attention to Cole's development as I did to Monk.

Maybe that's the problem in general with my life post-Cole. I haven't been paying enough attention to anything. I lack focus. I am easily distractable and I go off on wild meandering tangents that always lead me back to where I started. I live, as one of my friends is constantly reminding me, in my own little world. And, unfortunately, I think it's a world that has become too well-guarded against invasion or even invitation.

So I am going to force myself to form a habit. I need to write about the kids every day. Because in writing about them, I notice them. I might not write so much about them in this space, because they are both older now and they don't necessarily appreciate my maternal gushing over their every day small victories...but I will record my memories of their abstract and concrete accomplishments in my paper journal. For a little while every day. So I can remember their place in my world. So I can prove to myself seven years down that I DO notice. And also...to train myself to pay attention. A little bit of focus every day on who they are as people and who they are becoming. And so one day we can look back at who they have been...

Excerpt from 11/23/1997 journal:

Monk goes about his way, learning and growing and becoming a young boy. Sometimes I wonder how we are doing as parents. There will always be things to resent, I suppose. It is frustrating and totally rewarding. To watch him grow. To be a part of his life. I hope he understands - I hope I convey the rewards more than the frustrations. He is a fantastic boy. Lately he has been amazing me with his practiced independence. He knows what no means, but chooses to ignore it..."

Posted at October 22, 2007 8:04 AM

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