Friday, March 4, 2011

Seven Years Now...

Seven years is a long time by anyone's standards.
Seven years was a long time for Brad Pitt when he was stuck in Tibet. I don't remember anything about that movie except Brad had some gnarly beard action going on and that Tibet isn't exactly a dream vacation destination pour moi.
Seven years is also long enough to terrify a child into never swallowing her Juicy Fruit again, by telling her she'll eventually have a stomach full of old gum. (Just to update you Grandma Brown, I've now thrown that scare-tactic to the wind and will swallow my gum just about whenever a trash can is too far away for my lazy legs.)
Thanks to an exceptional fifth grade teacher, I also know that seven years was a really long time to have a war with the French and Indians. Especially if your mother country's full of total softcheeks and they and will make you do all the grunt work. No wonder we won the Revolution.
I also know that seven years was a long time to have anorexic cows in Moses' day, and that it's a long time to have bad luck for after your ugly face shatters the mirror.

But how long has seven years been to me?

Mom, if I could show you how long seven years has felt for me, I would have a beard down to my ankles and an intestinal track so chock-full of bubblicious that the double rainbow guy would have something else to scream about.
It's been so long since I've had someone that I could always count on to be interested in every stupid, little thing I'm doing. To be rooting for me no matter what the odds. To be so blind with a mother's love that she can tell me I'm the best at everything and lacking in nothing without crossing any fingers or knocking on any wood.
The world's a scary place without a mom, whether you're 14 or 21. Seven years is a really long time, I've now lived a third of my life without you, and I know I've learned so much, but sometimes I wish I could just get a break from all this learning. Call a timeout with the Big Guy. Maybe I could get a two-sided conversation for once. Your part of the conversation was always more interesting anyway. But I know it will probably be a whole lot longer than seven years before I get that, so until then, I'll just have to live it up so we'll have plenty of good things to talk about.