Oliver and I made that little bamboo fountain and placed it on a tile table right next to the lavender fields (I say fields because it's sort of incredible how many lavender are growing -- it's actually just a patch). The fountain doesn't have a strong motor, so the sound isn't as loud as I'd like, but it's peaceful and very beautiful and we definitely need peace and beauty around these parts.
You know how everyone likes to bash social media and go on sabbaticals and say how much they hate it and how it's ruining their children, and it's a time suck and all that jazz? I say bullshit. During these trying times, I've never felt more connected to certain people -- some of whom I only know online. If that sounds pathetic to you, know that I have a wide circle of human fleshy friends, and I love each and every one of them. I also have a lot of family, and I love each and -- well -- most of them, too. I am, in fact, a rich person as far as my social life goes. But these people I've met on the internets? I'd like to hope that the feeling is mutual, but those certain someones really do sustain me. After walking a much more chipper Sophie all the way to CVS to pick up her medication, and finding out that they processed it wrong and that our co-pay is huge and it's for one of the drugs that she's just ON and we're trapped to being ON it despite its inefficacy because of the hideous nature of weaning/withdrawal -- well, I walked home crying the whole damn way behind my big purple sunglasses. I had myself a bit of a pity party where I cursed pretty much everything and everyone, including those who think I should welcome Jesus into my life. I had a funeral in my mind for what it means to be alive in the 21st century and beholden to big pharma and capitalism and family and marriage -- well, you get the gist. When I got home, I checked out the website for the upcoming Epilepsy Pipeline Conference that I'm attending in early June, where I'm participating on a panel about medical marijuana, and I saw my name listed alongside the big honchos of neurology and Big Pharma, and all I could think was that I need a title, something to convey my rage and despair and love and pride in this life I'm leading with my children. I thought Elizabeth Aquino, FUCK YOU, might work, and I told one of my friends from the etherworld, and she suggested Elizabeth Aquino, Messenger. That cracked me up because it was so weird, so I countered it with Elizabeth Aquino, Daughter of God and then she said, Elizabeth Aquino, Messenger from God.
And then I cracked up laughing, the thought of me sitting straight-faced on that panel telling my story as a messenger from God. My earlier tears, lately just pricking at my eyes seemingly all day long, retreated, my anguish was stilled, I went and sat outside in the sun, heard trumpets in that water in that little fountain, smelled the lavender in the breeze, all of it, all of it, a message writ large of LOVE.
Hey you messenger of God, you are that, you know. But yes, use your other titles as well, Elizabeth Aquino, author and activist. Agitator and wise woman. Most important: Sophie's mom.ReplyDelete
You, divine messenger, sustain and inspire ME. I am so grateful to have found you. xo
Beholden to marriage? Seems an odd way to put it, but I can envision possible scenarios and would not wish a one on you. Three cheers for your sense of humor and for all who sustain you, online or in person!ReplyDelete
I'm with you. The internet saved my life and because of it, I no longer have a marriage to be "beholden" to. Thank the gods. Love my internet family.ReplyDelete
What about something like Elizabeth Aquino - Teaching My Example for a nice E.A.T.M.E. acronym? Too subtle?ReplyDelete
You'll slay 'em in June, title or no....
Elizabeth Aquino: Motherfucking Messenger Of All That Is Holy And True.ReplyDelete
Elizabeth Aquino, Messenger of Sophie, goddess of the sea. And yes about the internet and social media-- I am a shut-in in a weird sort of way. Shut in with my mom except for the mornings when I go to gym. Once upon a time, I also walked on the beach during those mornings and ran errands. Now I go see Dan. Connecting to you, and other memoir writers, messengering their lives, their truth saves me. Reading Mary Moon at 6:00 a.m. my time cuz she is already up Florida time saves me. This could be a litany of saviors/bloggers. I read their courage and find mine.ReplyDelete
I suggest Elizabeth Aquino, Ass Kicker.ReplyDelete
I love that fountain! And love love that you made it with Oliver.
i call myself a mom de guerre. love you, eee, and all you do for the world and for me.ReplyDelete
Elizabeth Aquino, Fierce Fighter for Justice? This squishy internet person sends love!ReplyDelete
Elizabeth Aquino, Mother.ReplyDelete
You are a fierce mother, a strong and amazing woman and I'm so grateful I found your voice and spirit and your family here on the internets.
I would have cried too, I have cried over less. I have been thinking kindly of Sophie all week, thinking what she must be enduring on the weans from the drugs you can leave behind. I know what my wean from low dose benzodiazepine felt like, how awful that week was psychologically and physically. I have to believe that she will only get better as you tell big pharma to fuck off.
I'm going to finally buy the fountain I've been thinking about, no way could I make one like yours, but I'm going to put it by my russian sage and sit on my patio and listen to love this summer too.
I couldn't possibly top all that has already been suggested. :)ReplyDelete
I love that bit of deliverance. How about: Elizabeth Aquino, Human BeingReplyDelete
i'd say don't let a title define you, or ... don't get beholden to a titleReplyDelete
Elizabeth Aquino, Speaker of Truth.ReplyDelete
Elizabeth Aquino, Messenger of GodReplyDelete
Subtle difference ...
Elisabeth Aquino, undefinable. (Be afraid)ReplyDelete