Loose Strife

I remember distinctly riding in my aunt's RV.  It was only a few years back.  She had just come off a stunning blow -- the revelation of a husband's infidelity.  They were embroiled in a contentious divorce.  One of the items at the center of their disagreement?  Said RV.  She'd captured it, taken it hostage.  Perhaps as an effort to take back what was stolen from her -- her life.  I can't blame her.


Riding in that RV felt Thelma and Louise-ish.  The recreational vehicle is such an amalgam of competing interests -- rest and relaxation in a body made for mobility; safety in size, yet revolving front seats with seat belts that seem truly optional; the sense of gypsy life with enough room to bring your entire home life along for the travels.  It's a cluster f*%@ if ever there was one.  


My aunt was giddy being at the helm.  I was delighted at her humor.  As we tooled along, I remarked about the beautiful purple flowers on the side of the road.  "Loose Strife," she responded.  "Invasive, aggressive, a true pest."  Really?  It seems so innocuous, so pleasing.  "It's carried on tires, mostly long haul truckers.  It's spreading all over the country.  Like disease."


How prophetic.


Loose. Strife.  Love these words.  Loose -- not fastened, not contained, unrestrained.  Strife -- discord, violent dissension, rivalry.  Or more randomly, strife -- earnest endeavor.


As far as I knew, at that time, I'd never seen Loose Strife in my own neck of the woods.  But Loose Strife is like that, isn't it?  You can't necessarily see it coming.  One day things are fine, the next, not so much.


Over the course of the last month, I've noticed something.  On one of my favorite loops, just after I cross the fence that prohibits trespassing (it's not a great run unless at least one law is broken), I'm suddenly struck breathless.  My mind takes a few seconds to catch on.  It takes me by surprise each time it happens.  Then I look around, same spot every time, and lo and behold, I'm in a sea of Loose Strife.  Unrestrained Discord can take your breath away.


And I'm transported to that day in the RV, and I'm again witness to a woman coming to terms with the life that was versus the life she wanted.  I understand.  


My life feels like I'm at the top of the roller coaster right now.  I know what's coming next -- that sudden, stomach-jarring drop.  And I know it's unavoidable -- there's only one way down and it's through the fright.  And I know it was my own great ideas that got me to the top of the roller coaster in the first place -- I'm the one that stepped foot on the ride.  


I feel unprepared.  I'd rather not proceed.  But life isn't like that.  Life isn't pick and choose.  It's a go forward type of endeavor -- an Earnest Endeavor, if you will.


Which brings us back to the real topics of conversation:  Loose Strife.  From Unrestrained Discord, life as I want it, to Unrestrained Earnest Endeavor, life as it is.  And more importantly, loose teeth.


My littlest has his first loose tooth.  His baby teeth are making their exit.  And with them, goes this phase of my life.  I'm reluctant.  Recalcitrant.  Resistant.  I long to hold his small sweetness for eternity, and yet he's small no longer.  Bigger everyday.  


I watched him wake the other morning, his finger making its way to his tooth before his eyes even opened.  I'm sure he was feeling to see if it was still there, if it had become looser overnight.  He's like me, frightened and excited all at the same time.  He's on his own roller coaster.  

One of my favorite passages comes from youth fiction.  It's one of those passages that requires you to keep reading, even if up to that point, you hadn't much liked the book.

Six is a bad time too 'cause that's when some real scary things start to happen to your body, it's around then that your teeth start coming a-loose in your mouth.

You wake up one morning and it seems like your tongue is the first one to notice that something strange is going on, 'cause as soon as you get up there it is pushing and rubbing up against one of your front teeth and I'll be doggoned if that tooth isn't the littlest bit wiggly...   

You tell some adult about what's happening but all they do is say it's normal.  You can't be too sure, though, 'cause it shakes you up a whole lot more than grown folks think it does when perfectly good parts of your body commence to loosening up and falling off of you.

Unless you're stupid as a lamppost you've got to wonder what's coming off next, your arm?  Your leg?  Your neck?  Every morning when you wake up it seems a lot of your parts aren't as stuck on as good as they used to be. 

                                                                        Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis 

Loose Strife.  Things not stuck on quite as they should be, not like you thought they were, not as you hoped they'd be.  Bits become untethered, unfastened, unbound.  The parts of your life you thought you could count on become wobbly or maybe even disappear.  And the aftermath is only to be dealt with.  The hole in the mouth, the missing spouse, the absence of babies.  


Loose Strife.  The great divide between how I imagined life to be versus how it actually is...it's as simple as shifting from Unrestrained Discord to Unrestrained Earnest Endeavor.