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January 21, 2002
Can you believe it? Two diary entries in as many weeks! Well, tomorrow night is the premier for Vicious. It'll be neat. It'll be my second premier. My first was nothing worth mentioning. (Like this is?) Anyway, Kirk is going with us and then going home with my mom while Wes and I join some of the cast and crew out on the town in Buckhead. Just in case you don't know--and I know most of you don't--Buckhead is the trendy nightlife district. I'm excited. I'm not sure what I'll ware.
Kirk is getting home sick for California. He keeps begging to go home "tomorrow." I feel the same way. Isn't that weird. We've lived in Georgia all our lives and yet LA feels like home. I know what you’re thinking; everyone would pick Southern California over the Deep South any day. But home is home, right? We have family here, and history. We know tons of people here, and we do like most of them--99%. Why would home suddenly be 2000 miles away?
I guess I should tell more about Kirk. A few weeks ago, Wes took Kirk to get a hair cut . . .stop me if I've told this one before . . .Wes instructed the stylist on how we wanted Kirk's haircut. Wes walks away and Kirk tells her that he want her to cut his hair like eminem. Would you believe she did it? It was very far from the cut we wanted, but she still did it. Isn't that funny? Annoying, but funny. Kirk picked out his own hairstyle. (Wes is not allowed to take Kirk to get his haircut any more. That would not have happened if I were there, but at least I've got a funny little story to tell about Kirk's hair.) Yes, I know it is only funny to me. I can deal with that. I know you'll laugh politely. And that you for that, by the way.
Kirk turned 7 last week, on the 17th. It doesn't make me feel old. I feel like time has just sped by and I haven't changed. I feel left behind. Wes found a cassette the other day. It was a tape of he and his friend Chad Morrison playing guitars and singing. The tape was made in the first year of our marriage so it was '97 - '98. All of the sudden you hear this tiny high-pitched voice on the tape singing and laughing and talking. It was Kirk. He was 3 1/2 at the oldest. I remember all of it. I also remember thinking how big he was at the time. He seemed so smart and grown-up. He was not a baby to me. Kirk has almost never been a baby. He's always been a kid. Do you know what I mean? We never talked to him like a baby and that is why, we think, he began speaking so well at such a young age. I kinda' wish someone had come up to me at that time and said "He's just a baby. Enjoy the babyhood, because he'll be 7 the next time you turn around and it'll all be gone." The next time I turn around he'll be 14. And the next time, he'll be gone. I get this way at every birthday. It's like he's one step closer go growing up and leaving. Isn't that terrible? What an awful way to think!
Have I done an okay job? Is he prepared to be seven? If not I can't go back. It's too late. Oh, dear God, please take what I have done, what I've tried to do and use it. Take this mess I've made and mold it. Use me how you can. I feel like such a broken tool. Please, allow my children to learn from me what they need to know and if nothing else allow them to learn from my mistakes so that they won't make them too. Protect them from all the evil things in this world. Keep them from harm, from pain. Please, if at all possible prevent them from having to learn the hard way. Give me the right words. Direct my steps so that by watching them my children will be able to emulate you. Take the words that I am writing now and make since of them. Let you will be done in my life and if at all possible use my prayer in the lives of others. God bless me and forgive me. If I can have those two things my life will be full. Thank you. Amen
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