I Have Become the Kind of Person Who Takes Pictures of Buzzards

I didn’t realize they made noise when they flew, but they were close enough that I could hear it. It sounded like a helicopter just starting up–whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. And they have to take some running hops to get in the air. We have two kinds of vultures in Tennessee–the bald-headed ones and these. These are these. Also, if you want to know how long it takes a cat to go from road kill to dinner, I can tell you about 24 hours.

That’s disturbing, but comforting. I don’t know. It’s weird, but I kind of hope that’s what happened to Stella. A quick death and then she took to the sky.

Mother’s Day

I’m going to be thirty-seven in two weeks. I always said that, if I wasn’t a mother by the time I was thirty-five, I would just go ahead and do it. But then you get to be thirty-five and you have a couple of nephews and you have some friends who are parents and you think, “My god, that would be really hard to do alone” and so you don’t.

I like being an aunt a lot. I wouldn’t mind if the Butcher had some kids nearby I could go hang out with.

I don’t know. It’s set up a lot of times like it’s childless women v. mothers, but I don’t feel against mothers at all. I don’t feel like I’ve missed my calling or anything. You get to be this age and you know something about yourself and I think I would have been a fine mom, but not great and I think sometimes, in some ways, looking at our family dynamic, I would not have been good at all.

I guess you hope the other parent can balance that shit out.

I feel ambivalent. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on something I should have done or really wanted to do and couldn’t do.

But I do wonder what my life would have been like if it had gone that way.

When I look back at pictures of my mom, before she got married, and she was so vibrant and strange in a way that seemed to get muted by life. And I can’t help but wonder what her life had been like if it had gone this way.

It’s a crapshoot, really. Life. Shit happens or it doesn’t and you make the best of it.

I’m always glad to hear her voice. We talk a lot about gardening, which sounds boring, I know. But I think it brings to us both the same sense of wonder.

Anyway, this is a weird post.

I guess you go through your whole life trying to figure that shit out, though–what it means to be a daughter, a mother, and so on.