Ten.Two Thousand & Fifty-Five
It’s so freaking hot.
3:32 a.m. There’s no way I can go back to sleep now.
Yoga day.
The hours move too quickly. I can’t quite finish all of the bathrooms before we have to leave. It’s hot.
I eat my regular order: a kid’s PB & J from Sunshine. Torres Iberico chips this time. A vintage all-star jersey. A little sweaty. It’s hot.
She gets me down from the stands and tells me to look at my child. He looks like he’s about to cry. He’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. Cold and clammy in 90-something degrees. I know they think they need him. I know he shouldn’t play.
When you make someone eat, you call it a “force feed.” What do you call it when you force someone to drink?
Well, if there was a game to sit out, it’s this one.
She sends me the videos of memories her phone made. Us on a plane. Us at the ranch. Us as the winery. It will be us again in September.
Tomorrow is another day.
Ten.Two Thousand & Fifty-Four
Finally Friday.
I decide to go in early anyway. I could use the peace and quiet. And I don’t want to think about all the cleaning that needs to be done.
SOS mode.
Emails and more emails.
What exactly is it that I am expecting to happen? What would happen if I just let go of any expectations? But I don’t think I’m asking for too much.
All things considered, aren’t I the luckiest?
What if we use this time for exploration instead? I eat the pasta and make a list of all things I would do if I could do anything. It makes me smile.
I ask them if they’ve caught any rattlesnakes lately. They have not. They seem disappointed about it.
It is hot. So hot. So, so hot. I am sweating. I can feel it softening the once-crisp cotton.
But then there are evenings like these.
Ten.Two Thousand & Fifty-Three
No. I must go today.
I wore my slippers instead of shoes, so he grabs me the croque monsieur biscuit and a green juice.
I need to explore this more. There is something there.
Maybe this is one of the reasons I need to stay.
We bring some of the flowers back to the office. The color of the roses speaks to me.
She is not wrong.
La Calenda. Margaritas, fish tacos, chips and salsa and guacamole, ceviche. Phoebe’s eyes. Truth and honesty.
The valley at golden hour. The way everything glows. The way the leaves on the vines tremble in the breeze. People on bikes who look like they can’t ride a bike.
Team dinner at Gott’s as we roll into All-Star weekend. Wine and tacos and cupcakes on the table. Electrified kids.
Grateful for my people.
Ten.Two Thousand & Fifty-Two
Today.
I start right away on the email to her and then try to edit all of the transcripts quickly. It is taking longer than I thought it would, and I am regretting all of my decisions on process.
She calls to ask if we need to reschedule my appointment. What does she mean? I am in the car, halfway there. I had the wrong time. I hang up the phone. I started this whole day wrong.
I know what I did wrong: I went straight to work on a day off. I should have started with a list of gratitudes.
We manage to make lunch happen: steak frites, tomato soup, a kale salad, lemonade, laughter, and real talk. I tell her she’s turned my day around.
But I should really not go to work tomorrow for real, right?
I sit and write a list of 38 things for which I am grateful.
None of the kids are here for dinner, so we do an impromptu walk and head to Goose and Gander.
There is an older black couple at the table behind me, and I can’t keep myself from staring at the woman. Her dreadlocks look fresh, gray hairs sitting just at the base of her scalp. Matte red lip. No eye makeup. Her voice is low and slow. A quiet beauty. A gentle power. I want to know her.
It’s not about today. It’s about all of the days I have left.
Ten.Two Thousand & Fifty-One
In the dream, I am holding a fork and knife. I look them straight in the eyes, smile, and say, “Thank you for giving me my beautiful children.”
Probably not exactly in uniform, but oh well.
I always need something to eat in this meeting. I probably shouldn’t be crunching on this apple, but I’ve learned not to ignore my hunger.
This is what I was afraid of. I tried to warn them.
He asks me when I’m going to take a vacation. I tell him tomorrow. Just going to enjoy being home with my family. I should have taken more than one day.
I really do like shrimp.
I feel oddly protective about this, and I can’t tell if I’m taking it
It is only Tuesday, but it feels like Friday. But it’s only Tuesday.
St. Helena wins.
The setting sun and the golden hills and thanking them for bringing me to California.
Ten.Two Thousand & Fifty-
Monday.
Just the two of them, still sleeping while I make the coffee.
He is already there when I arrive. I take a look around and see all that is not where it’s supposed to be. And where is a manager? And it’s a good thing that something in me said to wear jeans and sneakers to start the day.
Finally, a blue sky.
It’s official.
“All my friends are leaving.” “What about you?”
I settle for an apple and a bag of sour cream and onion chips while I wait. I keep waiting. And I wait some more. There is nothing to be angry about. It just is what it is.
Not as many as I would have liked, but it is a solid group. Once I start sweating, I cannot stop.
He has gone to the movies again. I hear the rustle of fruit snacks in his pocket. He is glad he had a lot of popcorn because he does not want swordfish for dinner. I rub his head. He looks more and more like his older brother every day.
You can do anything you want.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Nine
I put the oils on my skin once more. I have a favorite. She tells me her good news. She deserves it.
The most perfect kind of yoga for a day like today. I lean into my soreness.
We got our timing all wrong. It’s a mad dash to get one to the field for practice and the other down to Napa for the first game. And then I remember that I should have woken her so she could pack her bag for her trip. Why does this feel like a Tuesday in April and not a Sunday in June?
One and done.
I am trying to focus, but I can’t. I want everything to happen more quickly than it is.
His presence brings a smile to my face. If I’m going to go to work on a Sunday, it would only be for him.
Who is the right person for this information?
it is funny how we can cement ourselves in a person's memory. They will think of us as that person who did this or is this, regardless of the passage of time, or the shift in circumstances. Sometimes we are not allowed to evolve.
Just the four of us for dinner. Burgers. A little bit of laughter.
Good thoughts only.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Eight
2:42 a.m.
Game day x 2.
How many toilets can I clean before we leave?
I put my ear up to the door and hear nothing. Who knows when they actually went to sleep?
I can’t tell if he’s nervous or tired, or both. Probably both.
Three parts steamed oat milk, one part coffee. Am I coming back to the first love?
End tables in place. It is slowly coming together. Next: lights and a table with benches.
Supplications.
Imitation Bottega parmesan dip.
Nodding off at the dinner table.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Seven
Finally Friday. And it’s game day.
It’s also “Watch More Women’s Basketball” shirt day.
Being happy on my way to happy.
We are both standing outside of the gym doors. She has earbuds in her ears. I have a phone in my hand. “Who plans a tournament that starts at 9 a.m. on a Friday?” “I know, right?! I’m trying to watch these last 12.7 seconds before I get on this call.”
This is the boy I remember.
“Who’s taking me to practice?” A multiple-kid kind of question - a question I am asked way too frequently.
In my daydream, I am giving all of them a hug because look at how lucky I am.
He drives. He sleeps. I stare at the landscape as we crawl northward home under these beautiful blue skies. I believe the word he used was “chaparral.” Now I see some old redwoods. Now I see the sign for the farmer’s market. Now I see everything.
I could be overstepping, but I basically tell him that this isn’t worth it.
A table of six for the night. A table full of laughs. A table full of kids that are and aren’t my own. A table full of conversation. Oh my goodness, this is what my life is. I want to hug them all.
The smell of microwave popcorn.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Six
In the dream, we are in the mall. He is telling me that he must buy the coffeemaker. My mother has told him he has to get the house together before we get married.
In the dream, we are at Station Pizza, but it is an eat-in restaurant with a patio. The owner tells me there is someone here from Wisconsin that I used to know.
Is it Friday yet?
Neither of us feels like working.
She’s fishing, and no one is biting.
The furniture is here. The furniture is here!
I tell them that it is almost as if my editor knew all of these personal things about me and gave me this opportunity to meet them and all of these other people. These conversations have been such a gift.
I’m not sold.
I do like it here in the grandstands.
Cocoon.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Five
No more dairy.
Solstice. Cancer season.
I buy the book.
Less data entry means less dancing needed.
Miso caesar with grilled shrimp. Crudite. I prefer tiny carrots. Lemondad. Cold-brew decaf.
I take notes while they talk. I think of more and more questions. I remember why I liked to do what I did.
I fill in the form and say to myself, “I’m going to win this.”
I like it when he’s talkative like this.
Vanilla shake with extra sprinkles.
I won it.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Four
Always so hard to keep track of the days.
I should do more video content.
Clearly, I am not communicating enough.
Earbuds in. Dancing. Singing. Data Entry. No construction.
Hurry up and wait.
I just miss wine.
“You are the director, creator, and writer of your story.”
“Be persistent and win.”
“Have the guts to find your glory.”
“You gotta be happy on your way to happy.”
“It basically comes down to this: You chase what you want, and you don’t take what you can get.”
“You are the woman for the job.”
“People don’t have to like you. People don’t have to love you. They don’t even have to respect you.”But when you look in the mirror, you better love what you see.”
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Three
The birds begin their song well before the 5:30 alarm these days. There are worse ways to begin the day.
Will they be here today?
What to wear?
If only.
The jokes are exactly what you would expect them to be but I am distracted by the thing behind the thing.
Engagement is correlated to morale. Winners like winners. Self-critique is critical to growth. Where am I here? Where is my passion? We are in service to each other first. Everything is a process. How you do one thing is how you do everything. Power exists in time. Luxury doesn’t happen by accident. What did I sign myself up for? Ask questions. Listen. Make observations. What am I paying attention to?
The walk back is long but sunny and bright and cool.
This was exactly the conversation I needed to hear.
“You are not responsible for her comfort,” I say.
They’re here. And they look so much older. What a difference 7 days make.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Two
Hair day.
Nothing is going the way it was planned.
On the one hand, it is great that they get to have more time there and I get more time here.
I think of how, after this summer, there are only three more summers with the five of us.
Next year, things will be different.
Making progress.
Another shift in plans.
I wish I could have been there, but my time will come.
“In other words, if we neve hear ourselves owning - or even hinting at - what we’ve overcome, created, nurtured, or completed in our lives, how can we know competence, strength, and resilience as part of who we are?” - Playing Big
Friends that are now neighbors. This will be a fun summer.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-One
One more day.
On the mat. Cold morning. Deep breathing. Accepting it will just take time.
Not ready for the return.
I watch them ask for a different table. They want to be by the window. And why not. Why were they seated all the way at the back of the restaurant with all of these empty tables?
I realize I mistakenly signed myself up to work on Juneteenth.
Farmer’s market cherries and plums and nectarines and mint tossed in honey and orange juice. A bottle of Juhfark.
The magic of this space. Tables full of food. Buckets full of wine. Conversation in the sun and shade. This is how to spend a Saturday afternoon.
But I have made so many friends.
If this isn’t what I want, then why do I go against myself?
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty
Finally Friday.
Will we bring them all back? Already? We’ll plan better next year.
Keyboard shortcuts and double-screen work.
He asks me how I am doing. He must be able to see it on my face. I tell him that I’m sad it’s her last day, and I’m sad that all of the kids are coming back already. I needed more time.
So many ideas, and not enough time.
The naming of things.
We are on time but also late.
Fries - too salty. Beef carpaccio - too salty. Picpoul - okay.
Grüner, Juhfak, Kadarka, Hárslevelű. Sometimes I feel so disconnected from the world of wine.
He tries to sell me on the eggplant, but I need the cauliflower gratin and duck breast. Meyer-Näkel Spätburgunder.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Nine
A Thursday that feels like a Friday.
Cacao and silence.
The sun promises to arrive early today, and I am grateful for it.
There is nothing I can say to make things better for her except to try to make her see that she’s not alone in this.
Stay away from the Doritos.
Passionfruit margarita and tacos and salad and a glass of champagne. Some laughter. Some hugs. It’s a beautiful day and he’s playing soul.
They have the same energy.
I knew it.
Aguachile and ceviche and halibut. Verdicchio. Ice cream sunday.
Do they stay, or do they go?
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Eight
Another quiet morning.
Let’s keep it positive.
Emails first.
Acceptance is the first step.
In the picture, they are wearing socks - at the beach. I shake my head.
Not our last lunch, but our last work lunch. The peace that comes from knowing that this ending is not really an ending but a transformation.
Everything is coaching.
A few moments alone in the office. The glow of the afternoon light on my desk. Chopin squeezed into the left ear. More water.
Six. This is a good start.
Hot shower. Soreness. For dinner, an assortment of leftovers from Bistro Jeanty, Northblock, and Angele. A short pour of sauvignon blanc.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Seven
Must abide by the alarm today.
Kouign-Amann and a cafe au lait with oat milk for a sick-day treat. Probably don’t need the butter with all of this congestion.
For some reason, she is making me feel guilty. I laugh to myself.
The power of relationship and storytelling to transform a life.
We worry too much about the things outside of our control. What is the easy answer? How can we make it easier on ourselves?
Leftovers.
The warmth of the sun.
Advil once more.
Gentle sunset. Pastel sky. Hunger.
I’m just not mentally there.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Six
Another night of strange dreams that do not make sense.
Not feeling it.
I take my cacao, sit in the chair, and stare out the window.
A break in the clouds.
I don’t actually reread the poem before I share it because I never reread my work. I should break that.
He’s upset that I keep doing work on a sick day. He is not wrong. But I knew it needed to be done, so I help with this one thing. This one thing is just a big thing. They always feel like big things.
Night three without children. I appreciate the quiet but I do miss them.
The gift of time.
“Cotton Candy clouds.”
Soft water.