At Least This
In the evening Ella performs the monologue for me. It’s from Alice in Wonderland, she tells me, her ten-year-old face alight with passion that burns from that place inside we cannot name or explain or touch- our intangible soul. I watch, standing at the kitchen island where I do so much of my mommy work. And in an ordinary moment this extraordinary girl transforms in front of my eyes. She is Alice.
But my little actress has to continue her ordinary life for now. Teeth brushed, jammies adorned, books read, lights out.
And for me the night comes early, heavy and pressing, willing my tired eyes to shut until my exhausted body relaxes into grateful slumber. But then, as it does sometimes, too often lately, I wake in the early hours of the morning, my mind alive with yearnings and disappointments and failures.
So this new day I begin afraid and scattered and weary. There are the words to chase, always those. Will this be the day nothing comes? There are my girls. Am I enough for them? What will I not deliver today they need? And there’s this matter of starting over, beginning again. Today it’s in the form of a coffee date with a man. After fourteen years, a date. How is this my life, I wonder, as I make waffles and pour milk and pack lunches while absently listening to the chatter between the two loves of my life.
Somewhere between bites of waffle, Ella asks me about acting lessons. Again. I feel the ever-constant twinge of guilt. I must get her signed up, I think. To her I say, Yes, I’ll call today. The corner of my right eye twitches, thinking of the money and the already packed schedule.
Then, something akin to sun suddenly breaking during the darkest of storms. I’m at the refrigerator, putting away the milk when she says it.
Ella, never ever give up on your dreams, says Emerson.
Startled, I peer around the refrigerator door to look at her. Did she say what I thought she said?
Where did you hear that, Emerson? I ask.
I made it up just now, she answers.
She repeats it again to her older sister. Don’t ever give up on your dreams.
Right, says Ella. Mom didn’t and they finally came true.
They know this?
They actually know this.
This I’ve done, I think. At least this, despite all my failings.
And knowing this sustains me on a fearful morning as I drink coffee with a man I do not know, and now, chasing words at my desk. I will remember it later when I pick my loves up from school and begin the routine of another gray evening with all its arduous trials and simple joys.
Dream the dreams of your soul. Do not give up. Ever. I’ve given them this. It is enough for today. Perhaps, it is enough.
