When I sleep on the couch at Derynne’s my body refills itself the same way that happens when I am in the back room at Grandma’s. I don’t know how it happens or why it does this. The couch is sort of lumpy and often the cats scrounge around on my chest and make the funny cat noises that make me feel like melty. It’s not the Pennsylvania hills where pots of my grandmother’s cooking thicken the air and woosh in at me promising the certain body tired that lets me, finally, deeply, sleep. It’s Derynne’s, Huntington Beach, a street away from Main and a busy one that runs all night. And yet, I sleep.
Jaden comes out and tells me what he’s making for breakfast, asks do I want some. I stop typing and stare at him. He is over a foot taller than me now. It is the US surf open weekend. This morning two years ago we were up before the sun to ride bikes downtown and be first in line for free swag. Jay stood eye to eye with me then. Now neither him nor his little bro want to go there because the “idiot inlanders ruin it for everybody.” I can’t help it, I’m staring up at this fourteen-year-old taking over the whole kitchen with his big man body, I have to say it aloud: Jaden when did you start making me breakfast?
Back home my aunt Mary’s memorial tournament comes and goes. Her kids and I text each other a little bit, it makes me feel part of, I marvel that it’s two years now since we lost her. In the middle of the night I woke to the sounds of cat food rumbles and water being lapped, I had vague thoughts that the cats were way louder than normal. It wasn’t a cat it was a raccoon. He shooed out of the house when I got off the couch and came towards him, but lingered in the yard lounging like a happy fat goddess in the dark grass. Staring at me angrily when I shut the back door.
The boys are up now, were done having breakfast, cartoon network is on. Derynn is teaching yoga all day and has a tattoo tonight. For sure she and I are heading to the finals in the morning, I guess maybe I will ride down today on my own.
It is traditional Lammas, second day of August. The boys school on why Teen Titans Go is not as good as the original. Greyson looks over my shoulder as I write this. He has changed from a little dude to a Junior Lifeguard before my eyes this summer.
Life goes on. The full moon shall come and shine the first harvest down. I see it already, live before my eyes.