I love Tom Waits. And once upon a time, when I was just 19 and living in a third floor apartment on Norton Street, I thought pretty much everything in life could be summed up in one of his songs, depending on your mood.
So the song below is for all y'all this Easter Sunday. This amazing Easter Sunday that Grandma managed to stick around to see, that my sister was by my side, hanging over the breakfast bar of my mom's sunny kitchen while the family, including Ian and his mom, waxed sarcastic about every topic under the sun. We joked. We ate. We read the paper and snickered over the story about the lawyer who was beat up by the estranged husband of the lawyer's client, with whom he appeared to be out on a date. I bought my old house from that lawyer. I was married and pregnant and separated and divorced in that house that once meant so much to me. And the lawyer? He moved around the corner, to an old pink Victorian on Central Ave. Curiously enough, that Victorian was owned by Ian's stepmother for many years before the lawyer bought it. Tiny, tiny town this is. Painfully so.
It was a good Easter. The kids had a blast. We even went to church this morning, where we saw everyone from school and the neighborhood, including Sean's close friend Nick, and his mom, Cindy. Then it was off to mom's. The food was great. The kids hunted for eggs in the yard. And just to be able to hang out next to my sister for the day, seeing Grandma right there with us, was more than I could have wanted.
Now? Bed. Let's hope tonight's sleep is more restive. This morning I awoke, distressed and upset from a dream that Ian had left me for some American girl he met in Ireland when he did a semester there years ago. When Ian woke up, I said, "I had the worst dream last night." Before I could elaborate, he said,
"Me, too. I dreamt you left me for some Polish guy. And Keith and I were scheming to get you to come back to me."
Okay, all you amateur psychotherapists! Have fun with that one!
"Was he cute?" I asked.
But anyway, all I really wanted to say was that 16 years ago I used to lie on my back on my bedroom floor, smoking cigarettes, looking at the cracks in my apartment's ceiling, and listening to this, which will always be my favorite Tom Waits song..."Innocent When You Dream".
And yesterday's run was just what the doctor ordered.