Chapter 12

Spring 1991 Snippets, and Thoughts on Time

• Been on the phone all day. The phone book I ordered a couple weeks ago finally arrived yesterday. I’ve been dialing numbers in Davis, Oklahoma, looking for my grandmother. Lot’s of info so far — some of it lead nowhere, some hopefully leads somewhere.
• Spending more time outside lately. I’m really enjoying growing things and think it would be fun to have a house with a large atrium where I could grow and sell herbs and serve tea, scones, and homemade jam.
• I drove to look at a house in Monte that had sounded perfect over the phone. Icky once I got there, though.
• Taylor has spent some more time at Serendipity [daycare just down the hall from my office at The Valley] and seems to be enjoying that.
• Bruce up to Lake Quinault this weekend, so it’s just Taylor and me again. While he was napping, I dug the dirt in my small garden area. After Taylor got up, I put him outside in his playpen while I finished digging. Then I put him in his new swing. When he got bored with that while I was weeding, I decided to try out the pool Charlie and Lil had given him. He loved it!
• Bruce and his dad won the “most fish” part of the derby. He said they had a great time and that they unknowingly drank NA beer all night. Hilarious!
• I went to the nursery for peat moss and seeds. Bruce helped prep the garden, and then I planted my cucumbers. The next day he came home with tomato cages, and we argued about how close to plant the plants.
• I received a large envelope from Mary Ann in Nacogdoches, Texas, who has done a search. It took me three hours to read all of it. Felt like I’d watched a movie.
• After he wakes up in the mornings, Taylor stands in his crib and waves and talks to himself in the mirror that hangs over his changing table. He also enjoys looking out of his window at all the goings-on in the backyard. I like to leave his shades open when he takes a nap, even though it’s bright, because he’ll stand there and look outside for a long time both before and then after his naps. I wonder what he is thinking.

May 12, 1991, Sunday, 10:15 AM

I didn't note this in the journal, but this was Mother's Day. Bruce surprised me with an antique rocking chair. A gift I still cherish.

I took Taylor to the doctor on Wednesday. He was due for his one-year checkup, but he’d also been running a slight fever for a couple days and was also acting kind of strange. A few days previous, we had caught him eating bird poop while we were waiting for Gram to open the front door. I almost vomited when I saw what he was doing. I don’t know if that’s what made him sick or what.

Then on Tuesday, he started acting weird. He didn’t want me to hold him or to put him down. Once I did put him down, because he really didn’t want me to hold him, he did everything he could to get away from me. He crawled behind the orange rocker and then under his bed, where he promptly bonked his head and got even more upset. He didn’t want me for anything. It was upsetting, and I was worried, but I tried to remain calm and present and just let him work it out since he didn’t want me.

Finally, I decided to see if taking him into the living room would help. I put on his favorite Baby Songs, and that didn’t work either. And when I went over to him he tried to crawl under the couch. It was really quite concerning.

He finally calmed down a little, so I decided to see how he would act if I went about things as if everything normal. I made lunch and sat on the floor and he came over and helped me eat my grilled cheese, and all was suddenly better.

I told the doctor about this strange episode and he said he’s probably starting to realize that he’s a different person, whole and apart from me. Interesting.

May 18, 1991, Saturday, 1:55 PM

Eleven years since Mt. St. Helen’s blew her top. I thought Armageddon had started when I woke to my mom standing over my bed in the darkness with a particle mask on.

I’ve been spending a lot of time at home lately and not even working all that much. I only go into Oly once a week to pick up and drop off work. I feel guilty, but I’ll be busy again once I meet with Gordon regarding the computer database program.

It has felt good to catch up on a few things that have been bothering me. I get frustrated when I feel I have so much that I want to accomplish, and I wonder when I’ll ever get done. I really need to learn to enjoy whatever I’m doing instead of feeling rushed to get it done. Like writing here, for example!

I’ve been keeping a journal for almost a year now. I’m proud of myself. It will be fun to read these books through the years and remember things and feelings that I might otherwise forget.

A yellow sticky note dated 3/09/2002 is on this page. It reads:
"I remember thinking if I wrote what I did each day that it would remind me of the more important things, like my thoughts and feelings. Hell, I don't remember anything very well. It makes me sad to realize that 20 years from now I won't recall this day either. And this makes me wonder how to approach my days."
Working on this entry today, nearly 20 years after writing the note, and nearly 30 since writing the initial journal entry, I find myself staring out the window with tears sliding down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them away. I don't want Riley to see them and ask me to explain. Repeating lyrics from a song drift in from the radio in the other room: "Hearts and thoughts they fade away, hearts and thoughts, they fade fade away." [From Pearl Jam's "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town."]

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