Picture Perfect

Today I went for another test at the doctor. My ultra sound showed some mildly unusual results so I was scheduled for a endometrial biopsy - strictly precautionary. But after all that, the test couldn't be done. At the risk of indelicacy and "too much information", my doctor couldn't open my cervix. It seems that "door" that opens to allow a baby to be born can, in older age (like, apparently, 52), get locked up. Like my body was telling me that I better not try to open it again. Like I would ever try to open it again. Since I did this at my family doctor, she didn't have all the equipment my gynecologist has, so we're going to do another ultra-sound in a month and if it warrants it, I'll go see him as he has what amounts to a gynecological crowbar at his disposal. Being a woman is so glamorous.

But I got out of my appointment in time to get Grace from school. She goes to a school on top of a hill here in Thousand Oaks. As it happens today offered crisp, fall weather, crystal blue skies, white puffy clouds and the school sits on a huge lawn of lush green grass and mature trees. I got there about 5 minutes before the school bell rang so I, along with about 40 other mothers sat in my car and waited. I put on the theme from "On Golden Pond" (I can listen to it again - you'll still hear it at my funeral), and watched as elementary aged school children, dressed in red and khaki and navy walked, ran, or skipped out from their classrooms to their waiting parents, backpacks in tow, stopping to wrestle, swing from a tree branch, chase each other, hug a teacher, throw a ball, do a cartwheel, share a secret, laugh or be silent. And life just started happening on this lawn - organized chaos - play in a perfect day. And then I saw my little blond girl, walking alone over the slight hill, dragging her backpack and carrying her knitting (a new skill she has learned) in a shoulder bag, toward my car. And tears started to spill from my eyes and I was so grateful that I was not at work - that I was here instead, able to take this mental photograph.

There are truly blessings in unemployment for me.