My mom was my sister's Girl Scout troop leader, and I was the troop mascot. It wasn't an elected position. I mean, they didn't really choose me as a mascot, but since I was little, and often hanging around with my mom during the course of their meetings and events, I became that. The young girls were mostly wonderful to me, except for once, when one of them chased me around our backyard with a toadstool in her hand. Girls will be girls. My dad had made sure that I had a fear of toadstools. He was probably aiming for healthy respect, but part of my dad's methodology in protecting us was to make sure we were scared to death of anything that had the power to harm us. So when that scout pulled up that toadstool and took off after me with it, I thought I was going to die. Note to parents out there: There is such a thing as installing an antenna for danger without making your kid into a whimpering scardicat. But I digress...
The troop was going on a hayride, and I was excited about this. I was probably about four at the time. My sister had already "flown up" from Brownies to Girl Scouts, as she is quite a bit older than me, though you wouldn't know it from maturity levels especially with regard to the current care of my mom. Anyway, about that hayride. Shortly before the event I came down with some childhood disease...measles? Mumps? Something. My mom told me that if I got better I would still be able to go. And I tried to get better, but, I didn't. The afternoon of the hayride was fast approaching, and then it arrived. I watched my mom and sister pull out of the driveway in my mom's station wagon. I watched from the window in my bedroom which faced the street. My heart was broken, and I cried as only a broken-hearted four-year-old can cry.
I am so much older now. But when, last Sunday, I missed Josephine's birthday party, at Noypitz in Glendale, because I had come down with some upper respiratory plague, I was sad. And, I was reminded of that hayride, and the disappointment I feel when I have to miss an event. There was a gathering of favorite salseros and there was: dancing, of course; laughter; fun; frivolity, and cupcakes. Carol's cupcakes. These cupcakes:
It was a tough week for salsa dancing. I had canceled plans with Carol twice already, before I woke up with that sore throat on Sunday. I had only danced on Thursday, at a club I don't generally go to. It was an ok night, but not what I would call stellar--stellar being those magical nights which only occur a couple of times a year. But, it probably goes without saying (but when does that stop me?) that even a non-stellar salsa event is better than any night staying at home with upper respiratory distress. And that was Sunday. Today is Thursday, and I'm still in the throes of it.
Recently a good friend of mine, who lives up in Northern California, sent me an email exclaiming that I was out of the darkness and into the light!! She even wrote: HOORAY!! It was in response to an email I had sent her which was, evidently, fairly upbeat. We exchange newsy emails pretty much about the highlights of activities, and I don't think my email was atypical of the usual. Her response took me aback, as they say, because I just don't think of my life in those terms, except at the resolution of a neighborhood power outage. My life is anything but black and white. It is gray to the core, a mix of, amongst other things: despair; distress; family and health issues; contentment; joyfulness; and, as Helen Hayes once said, ecstatic moments. One thing my life is generally not, is boring. And I am thankful for that.
I would say that missing Jo's birthday event fell into the category of health issues. That stuff just happens. But I do regret that I missed it, and that I also missed out on the contentment and joyfulness of those cupcakes, and the possibility of an ecstatic moment while salsa dancing. Still, quoting my mom's oft-repeated quote from the Bible, this too shall pass, and there will be more dancing in my future, on many more nights. And about that missed hayride. I became a Brownie, and my troop went on a hayride that I did not miss. How was that? Stellar. Thank you for reading my blog. Happy birthday, Mama Jo Stardancer!
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