My Little Golden Book of Phobias

One effing glorious day. I walked about 8 miles, Mount Baker to the north, Rainier to the south, white caps on the lake, geese flying into the mighty wind, leaves penny colored, all around Seward Park, baby strollers and itty dogs (I guess big dogs are passe), yarmulkes on the young men from my 'hood, kids wobbling on training wheeled bikes. I was so tempted to dive into the gorgeous blue lake just for a slap from the waves. Of course I would have frozen all body parts off.

Yesterday I went to our art gallery (yes, we are so sophisticated) to get a picture framed and the lady behind the counter remembered me from 20 years before as the midwife who delivered her grandson who died of SIDS 16 days after his birth. We looked at one another and then we looked away, oh dear. Later she called me to tell me she probably rang up my purchase incorrectly and could I come back to the store and fix it, no hurry. How our grief slams us down, sometimes in the most unexpected ways. She is a potter and I bought a creamer and sugar bowl from her all those years ago. My kid broke the creamer but I still have the sugar bowl. She said she could make me another creamer.

What a job I have. Ushering in the babies. Sometimes they don't live very long. We never know about that. How long will they live. Like us. My friend Annie works as a Buddhist chaplain in a hospital in Olympia. Goodbye. Hello. The interlude in between.