Of distant relation.

That feeling of wanting to taking care of someone (Of Night and Light and the Half-Light) - if you know me well, you will know I don’t mean to say that is all I want to do. Certainly I want to continue my mothering of Claire, my career, my painting, my coffee dates with friends. Of course. But can’t I do both? And I certainly don’t mean to say that I want to take care of someone who won’t take care of themself. That’s the whole appeal - doing something for someone who would have done it anyway. But now they don’t have to and isn’t that really just the nicest feeling? When you were on your way home thinking Oh, shit, I’ve got to remember to bring my garbage can back from the road to the house and you find, when you arrive home, that someone has already done it for you. (Thank you again, Erin.)

And that feeling of wanting to take care of someone. Sure, you’ve probably experienced that urge too. Yes. But I find it particularly inspiring and relieving because after I had Claire I really believed that I would never want (nor have the energy) to take care of anyone but her. My patience for adults (men) was cut short. I thought why would I want to wash a grown man’s dishes when I can devote that extra attention to my beautiful daughter instead? I think now, as Claire is growing up too fast, I have struck a nice balance. I am devoting every second of my time to her - and somehow pleasantly making time for others as well. I no longer see other people I love as a distraction from her. And that is a nice feeling.

And I am also grateful for this feeling because it is quite hard to give without strings. To give without potential resentment. And there are no strings to speak of, no resentments that I can foresee. And that is a nice feeling, too.

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I am addicted to a particular album right now. I will not tell you what it is because I want it to be MINE for a little while. (This excludes Erin, of course, because she always lets me in on her fabulous secrets.) There is one song on this album that didn’t do anything for me the first few listens. I didn’t dislike it - it just didn’t stand out because it is such a comfortable, melodic tune. However, the other night I was slowly pouring evaporated milk into my pumpkin mixture as the recipe specifically instructed and I realized this: Throughout the song he sings, “My love...” in the chorus. But during the bridge/chorus, he sings her name there instead - and it sounds almost exactly like “My love.” And I thought that to be incredibly heartbreakingly romantic and clever and just everything. Naturally, that is my favorite song on the album right now.

And speaking of that feeling of wanting to take care of someone - in a different song he sings the lyrics, “She cooks me food...” And I thought that to be an incredibly romantic line as well.

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My mother told Claire early this summer that she had spotted some deer in the cornfield behind their house and that there was a baby deer in this group...herd...flock...whatever. So Claire immediately became obsessed with seeing this baby deer. And each time she visited my parents she insisted that they go leave corn, blankets and a bottle in the field for her baby deer. And even after months without a single baby deer sighting, the obsession continued to grow. She started calling Mary, one of her babydolls at home, her baby deer. And then Juliette, our cat, became her baby deer. And when she returned home from Thanksgiving with her dad, I became her baby deer. ”Oh it’s okay, Baby Deer. Don’t be afwaid. Your momma’s here.” And after learning that I am the baby deer now, my mother, who I suspect is still angry with me for allowing Claire go out of town with her father on Thanksgiving, gave Claire a bowl full of dried corn kernels to feed to her baby deer. And then she sent an enormous baggy full of them home with us “so Claire’s baby deer wouldn’t be hungry.” So, needless to say, I have had about three tons of hard, dry, filthy corn kernels shoved into my mouth over the past few days. Tomorrow I am taking Claire to the Disney store to purchase a Bambi stuffed animal. And I will cut a hole in this poor thing’s mouth if I have to so as to no longer endure the fois grois style feedings my child fancies so well. (And as much as I dislike mouthing dry, hard, dirty corn - I am heartened that Claire has this innate desire to take care of someone too. Claire has the sweetest nature. She is just kind and polite and tender. And if you know her, know that you are so very lucky. But also know that you have contributed to her kindness and sweetness and, in turn, she and I are so very lucky.)

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(Please know that I am not making fun of anyone but myself here. There is nothing funny about this except my inability to put things in perspective when I have floated off to LaLa Land. And it’s not funny even, but pathetic of me really.)

Kate - bless her cold, black heart - is a tough love friend. Yes, even more tough love than I. And she will put up with none of my idealist fantasies or whimsical musings. When I confessed to her years ago that I had begun bumping into strangers just so I could offer a genuine apology because no one seemed to offer an apology anymore when they bumped into you and I wanted to start that human kindness trend up again, she told me that I was completely insane and that someone was going to go balls-out on me one day.

So, I should have known when I recently brought up the subject of a homeless man I had gotten to know. Well not really gotten to know, but became familiar with. Anyway, I was telling her about how I just felt this overwhelming compassion for him and ... (that whole thing about wanting to take care of someone.) She put her hand up, shook her head in disbelief and said, sternly, “You have your crush face right now. What the fuck? You have a crush on a homeless guy now?”

I told her that I did NOT have a crush on a homeless guy. But what if I did? So what? Just because he’s homeless doesn’t mean he’s not human. And he wasn’t like some old man. He was our age and he was attractive and...

“Fucking A, Courtney. You know I have compassion for homeless people too but let’s be frank here and agree that homeless men just aren’t really in the dating pool. Like dinner and a movie with you is on his list of priorities right now?! Fucking crush on a homeless guy. Are you telling me this to make your fucked up crush on Randy Travis seem more acceptable?”

And yes, he certainly has other concerns and I was too far off in LaLa Land. But, then, I remembered a professor I had in undergrad who had told us that he had been homeless for almost ten years before he managed to get back on his feet. And during the time he was homeless he met his wife - who was not homeless! So, maybe dinner and a movie would be...

(And, no, I don’t like Randy Travis’ music but he just seems so sweet. Like he would hold my face with both hands when he kissed me. And he’s tall.)