Some Things Never Change, But Some Things...

We run in the afternoon heat, soft rubber under foot, lap after lap and even 12 years later the smell, the taste of the heat reflecting from the track is like yesterday, and I am the same. The same person who loves to run, to push past tired legs, to compete and finish stronger than planned, and I am different. My mind is more sure of who I am and what I want. Solid confidence not defeated by the coming and goings of others.

Home with just one and loving the funny conversations and his dependence on my friendship, I am the same. The same as when the oldest was the only one at home and we were best friends all day and had all the time in the world, and I am different. When not careful, I can easily fill the hours and never have enough time to push him on the swings or read with him curled and heavy on my lap for hours.

I feel a little stir of excitement as I guide my niece through the algebra unknowns and I feel in awe at the truth of it all, and I am the same. The same person who discovered this math love through pure accident and reveled in learning the language of it all, and I am different. Still excited, I read the foreign text that has been unused for a decade, I fight fear and wonder if it will ever be preferred tongue again.

I hold the chubby babe of my friend and smell that smell; I swear I can feel milk in my breasts, I am the same. The same one who sat for hours and months, staring...still staring at the wonder that was created inside me, and I long for more of this divine role and soft cooing sounds, and I am different. Understanding the evolution of my divine roll and acceptance settling in as a young girls dreams collide with reality, and I begin to feel that it's ok.