If an alarm is screeching and there’s no one there to hear it, does it make a sound?
If I am
deciding if I want to get up preparing to face the day, then the answer is yes. The alarm my son has set to wake the dead, even though he isn’t home, finds its way into my peaceful slumber. If however, the alarm sounds once I’ve achieved blanket control and made my way downstairs, then the answer is no. My office is in the far reaches of the house. I say far reaches, there really is no far reach in our house, but the office is the farthest from my son’s room.
Plus, I’m usually wearing headphones.
My son is one of the five smartest people I know. Even with the handicap of having my DNA, he’s pretty remarkable in the brainiac department. He talks to me (sometimes) about calculus and chemistry (and some other stuff too). I feel my brain begin to bulge, but it isn’t long before the bubble bursts and I realize he is smarter than me. It truly blows my mind when I hear him talk excitedly about what he is learning.
As moms go, I’m average, somewhere on a sliding scale of over-protective to flat-out oblivious. Try as I might, I win no June Cleaver award. I often wonder if my family wishes they had a reason to brag about me.
I don’t long for the days of mommyhood. Those days are gone. I also do not yearn to be a grandmother. In fact, the only thing I have done in preparation for that eventuality is decide what I want to be called. Honie. That’s right. (In case anyone was curious.) Not Gammy, GG, Me Maw, Nanna, Gram or any of the other terms of endearment for the one who feeds children ice cream for breakfast, sends them home with a dollar in their pocket, and buys one (or two) of every variety of whatever they happen to be selling.
Yes, the sole reason for the Honie in HonieBriggs was for future grandchildren to call me something I will actually answer to. Now you know.
Until then there are many things that fill my life with joy. Just last Friday I attended the 14th annual Empty Bowls event to raise money for the North Texas Food Bank. Empty Bowls is a grassroots effort which began with a group of high school art students in Michigan, who had the idea to host a fundraiser where people could come together to enjoy a simple meal of soup and bread served in bowls created by students. Guests were asked to keep their empty bowls as a reminder of those who suffer from hunger in communities across our country. Empty Bowls events are now held all over the world and have raised millions of dollars for the fight against hunger. Will this end hunger? I don’t know. I believe it is a worthy endeavor.
Last night I attended a class where I learned that law enforcement officers working to stop a different type of hunger believe the tragic realities of human trafficking and drug smuggling will be never ending. Still, they know their work is a worthy endeavor.
There’s more, of course, but these are the week’s highlights. Comparing my life to the women of Downton Abbey is on hold until next season year. In the meantime, I endeavor to use my powers for good, ceasing unnecessary alarms, tethered to that which I love by an invisible force. I am the satellite.