stepping stone sunday.
Every week is punctuated by a Sunday. Sunday is like a stepping stone into my week. For my friend Eliav in Israel, it might be Saturday that provides this kind of pause. For you, depending on your work schedule, it might be Monday or Thursday, that day to sit with, to ponder, to assess, to fling open the doors and clean. For me, it's Sunday.
There are 52 weeks every year, each with its Sunday. Like crossing a river one stone at a time, each year. Some stones seem too widely spaced, as if we cannot possibly make it to the next one; some are slippery with moss. Some are under water.
This is the 37th (nice number) Sunday for 2009 (mid September? HOW ON EARTH DID THAT HAPPEN?) What does it mean to stop and see the next stone? What does it mean to rush past them? Where are they headed, anyway? What happens if there is a fork in the path of stones?
We need big stones to cross that river, not pebbles. Sometimes, we need to find one big enough just to sit in the sun for a spell, it seems to me, not moving.
Sunday is bagel and newspaper comics day in our house. There is a rhythm to that, a ritual. We are creatures of ritual. Do we need to clarify our weeks, to stop things from rolling over one another? To provide ourselves some kind of marker?
I went to the post office late yesterday and there was a little lockbox key in my mailbox, which can only mean one thing: THERE IS A PACKAGE TOO BIG FOR THE MAILBOX waiting for me in a locker, the key to which is that little lockbox key in front of me. How exciting!!! I danced the post office dance and retrieved the key. Locker #13 held a big padded manila envelope addressed to Tess from a woman named Emily Long.
I raced home with it, knowing how excited Tess would be, having inherited my Snail Mail Uber Excitement Gene. She ripped into it and was struck silent by excitement, her mouth stuck in a wide O. Inside, a MAGNETIC CALENDAR WITH ALL KINDS OF NUMBERS AND EVENTS TO PUT ON IT! A note from Emily: "Tess, I no longer have a use for this but I thought you might be able to have some fun with it!"
Tess' reaction was indescribable, the origins of which were not discernible. It was as if she had been given the Holy Grail. Her hands shook as she started placing numbers on the dates. AND THEN she had the opportunity to place "events" on the blocks. "TOMORROW WILL BE BIKE-RIDING DAY!" she screamed, placing a tiny square magnet with a blue bike on it and red letters that said "Ride Bicycle." (As I write this, Mr Brilliant and Tess are fulfilling that prophecy by, yes, riding bikes.)
She placed a dark blue magnet that read "Music Lesson" on the block that held the round "31" magnet and declared she would start piano lessons on that date.
A purple magnet with a brightly colored shopping cart indicates that we will grocery shop on the 17th.
We're evidently going to the movies on the 25th.
"WHEN WILL THE FIRST SNOW BE?" she asked excitedly, holding up to within an inch of my left eye a tiny blue square with snowflakes on it. "WHEN?"
She placed "Sports Practice," "Victoria Day," "Mother's Day," "Sunny Day" and "Play with Friends" all in September and stood back, satisfied.
I found the "Go to the Dentist" square hidden in her pocket when I put her pants in the washer this morning.
Her delight. Her stones. Her way to contain the passing of time, to get excited about the future, to mark her place in the river, to stand still just for a moment and look at the glory that is a month. A year. A life.
Stepping stone Sunday. A launching pad for a week.
What are your stones this week?
(With many BIG HUGE excited thanks to Emily Long!)
