This morning my mother asked me if I was going away this week.
I haven't mentioned my trip. No one has mentioned my trip... I've been afraid to breathe a word in case it might jinx the possibility of me really truly going to write songs, secluded in LA for a few days.
But mom knew. In that way that we've had, for better or for worse for all these years, she knew.
that's me behind the pillow. Just this Thursday she was up "editing."
"I AM going for a couple of days, you're right. I told her. (I cannot lie, even now) but I wanted to make sure you were totally taken care of before I made my final plans."
Mom, without a beat: "well you have to do these things, it's very important."
There she was, again, with the very permission I needed. I have been afraid to go far, things are changing quickly here. But there she was, fierce momma instinct coming from somewhere deep in the tangles to urge baby out of the nest.
She slept the rest of the day. Not a peep. Every time she stirred I tried to spoon in something, cajole her a little. But she just wanted to sleep. Not even "Nobody's Fool" could keep her awake today.
Aye, there's the rub.