19 January 2006
Quiet at the End of the Day
by Nanci
Olesen
I feel like crying and I don’t exactly know why.
I think maybe this weather, this grey, cold weather is doing
the number on me that it always does.
What’s a mother to do when she feels so low and so responsible at the same
time? This is the big challenge. Let’s explore that mama psyche at the end of another long grey day.
Or maybe
not. Maybe just get the job done. Dinner on the table. Homework accomplished. Extra curriculars covered (who’s
gonna drive, who goes where when, “has the dog been out?”). Each person’s demanding day is coming
to an end.
I watched a preview of the new Pink Panther movie. I love Steve Martin so much. I think he’s one
of the funniest actors on the planet. As soon as the preview began, I was laughing so hard, so immediately, that I
started to sob.
It wasn’t just like laughing hard. It was like hitting the weird little chord deep in my belly where the laughter
hits the tears and then the tears take over.
I was with my kids and my husband, and the movie theatre was NOT dark.
They were leaving the lights on so people could come into the theatre late and still find their seat. Damn them. I
was convulsing in my chair. I knew I had to get
it together. That is always my first impulse: GET IT TOGETHER. So I started wiping my face and calming my convulsing
sounds down to be just “ahhh, he’s funny isn’t he?” kind of sounds so no one would become
alarmed.
Nowadays I usually blame these moments on the death of my dad, so sudden and traumatic. That is two and a
half years ago now. If I start to laugh/cry/cry hard, I have the quick reaction that I must not be ready to be out
in the world
yet. I held myself in such a fragile state after his death. But then I sort of embarrassedly remember that it’s
been two and a half years and I really have got to move on. It’s like I can’t really allow myself to be
sad about that anymore.
I remember when the kids were little during days like these, days when I was caught in a tear trap that wouldn’t
let go. I would look out the window and think that I literally could not sit with my baby in my lap and my toddler
by my side for another second. I felt so lost.
I can answer the phone with that smile in my voice: “Hello this
is Nanci,” which makes me sound uplifted.
I learned this trick as a radio announcer. Just say it while smiling. It sounds good. Listen to your radio. There
are a lot of people smiling into the mike to tell you what is going on in our world. It makes the news sound a little
less horrific.
At the restaurant where I work, we say, “Would you like another glass of wine?” And we smile
at the same time that we are making direct eye contact with the customer and nodding “yes” with our heads.
It works almost every time.
The day is coming to an end. I have to drive my daughter home from her Circus class. I
have to find out if my other daughter needs a ride to her rehearsal. I need to consciously prod our son to get his
paper work for his driver’s
ed class in order. I need to make dinner. I need to go to the grocery store for milk for tomorrow.
I will concentrate
on all of these things. I will hold myself above and away from these tasks, a little, to make sure that I get them
done calmly. I will be gentle with my fragile little scared little psyche. I will be quiet at the
end of the day. Maybe the tears will come to release me later.
—Nanci Olesen
producer and host, MOMbo: 1990-2007 |
