crack is the word
i used to associate with a drug, or the sound an egg made when i sharply smacked a knife against it. a plumber, even.
no more.
just as parenthood has altered my vision of what is an acceptable way to look when leaving the house, my priorities, my experiences…just like a slow moving jellyfish in a horror movie, parenthood has subtly overtaken my definitions of words.
crack is the sound my heart makes when i remember the doctor urging charles and i to have a selective reduction performed on one of the triplets. it would have been jasper that was reduced. i look at him, rocking on the floor and flexing his fingers and lungs, and i cannot imagine my world without this beautiful life in it. crack
crack is the sound my heart makes when i see sela trying to keep sebastian’s attention. she dotes on him, and sometimes, sometimes, he will shine the light of his affection on her. she tolerates being lugged around, dropped, pushed, ordered…all things she would normally not stand from a parent or fellow triplet. she laughs at his songs and actions, and grins when he plays with her. and then he gets bored and moves on, and she looks after him so wistfully and calls out a forlorn sound that i know is for him, to no avail. he’s gone. crack.
crack is the sound my heart makes when i see carys, trying so desperately to walk like her big sister does. she gets so excited when someone holds her by the fingers, and she wants to walk, she screams with delight, and then she takes one step, possibly two, then collapses to the ground. and we clap for her and she looks up overjoyed and makes her hoarse cry, expressing her frustration and excitement. and my heart cracks again.
crack is the sound my heart makes when i watch sebastian reaching out to people. he is slowly emerging from his shell, and as his language improves he has more confidence. he tells more people he loves them. watching him excited about his life, waving to the float plane pilots and the joy on his face when they waved back TO HIM! they wave to me mummy! they wave! and another piece of my heart breaks.
crack is the sound my heart makes when i look at the pictures of the babies. their hospital stay…and then afterwards. we thought they were so huge when we brought them home but they were tiny! ridiculously so. how did they survive? why were they chosen? my heart dissembles as i remember looking at all of them sleeping in the cot together, the only things on their once tube covered faces were the tears dropping from our eyes. another piece of me.
crack is the sound my heart makes when i remember magnificent charles, so many days, so many ways, reminding me of his love. he cracked the shell of my heart, and it hasn’t stopped crumbling since that day in 1996.
just about every day something else happens for the now familiar bittersweet crack to pang and my eyes to well up as i observe something so sad and sweet. and i suppose that is why my definition of crack has changed so utterly: it is the action the heart makes to accommodate the daily growing love.
