Upon seeing

I’ve been writing about jumping out of an airplane. No, I’m not contemplating doing it – not probably ever again – but I did do it once, and so I’m reviewing old pictures as I piece together an essay related to memories and what I’ve seen.
What we see, I’m thinking as I write, we always come back to. Visuality. I don’t very often ponder why I pursue activities, readings, entertainment, obligations. I make commitments and step up to carry them through. And invariably something unpredictable takes place. Then I hang in space, suspended after the tumble, and at last I see things. Oh, it’s a patchwork. Oh, yeah, the earth curves. Much wider is the perspective. I’m such a tiny speck. Yet here I am, part of it all.
My skydiving experience took place before I had children. In fact, I recall wondering as I floated toward earth if the tiny seed of a person might be hanging suspended inside me. Tim and I – after five years of indecision – wanted to make a baby. But we would actually have to wait another six months or so to discover we were on the train to parentland.

As anyone fully engaged in raising a child knows, it’s quite a ride. A more awe-producing experience than the thrillingest extreme sport. And whereas for my parachute jump I received five hours training on how to keep my feet together and roll upon smacking the ground, no one could really teach me ahead which actions to take when encountering the realities of motherhood.

I’m thankful for moments, before and after the jolts of living, in which the view opened before me, broad and bountiful. I gained perspective, releasing foolish ideas that it was all about me. Yet the gift endured: I got to be a part of it all.

Saturday my two adult children posed (their grandparents in the background), for a snapshot of where we are now. My son had just finished his role as Friar in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing (he played other parts, too). Victoria made it to the matinee performance. During the play, from several seats over, I listened to my daughter’s laugh ringing gusto and joy.

Comments

sandy's notes said…
I love the comparison between jumping and children. Afterall it really is one heck of journey. I also love the picture. You must be very proud to have such great kids!
Deanna said…
Thanks, Sandy. You and I are both blessed in this respect, methinks.
Cecily said…
I love that picture, grandparents peeking through the middle reflecting back the pride you must have felt as you took the picture. Very cool.

And I too like the links you draw between then and now and everything in between.

Thanks Deanna!
Deanna said…
You're welcome, Cecily. Thank you, too.