Hot Potato Wisdom

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Don't ever do what I did and throw caution to the wind. Don't marry for love. The one I picked, when I fixed the chicken and potato dinner to test him, he simply pushed his plate away. He was so lovesick he didn't eat! I should have seen him for who he was. I should have known that this kind of man would wind up sleeping on sunny afternoons, stretched out on the couch, and that the smile on his face would be so sweet no woman with half a heart would dare wake him.

Sleep is overrated. Who needs it? Do you know how much you could accomplish while all those idiots out there are asleep? You could be first in your class, you could write 20 novels, you could polish your furniture—which I notice you've never before considered. And, after all, it's true that with sleep come dreams. Sometimes when I wake up I look in the mirror and expect to see a girl of 16, and I'm shocked by the stranger looking back at me.

Women can do anything men can do and more, but is this any reason to tell men the true story? Let them think what they think. Do they believe the proper use of a screwdriver means a higher intelligence level? Fine, if they do, let them. Good luck to them. When you have a baby you will know a secret that no man can ever know. You may forget it later, but for a little while you will know that within yourself you hold another's life. This puts the ability to use a screwdriver in its proper place: nowhere. Unless you've got furniture you need to put together.

If you ever lose a child, the way I did, then you'll know the other side of the truth. You'll understand what it means to be destroyed and still get up every day and fill the kettle with water. You will see steam from the kettle and weep. Insist nothing is wrong. A piece of dirt flew up and lodged beneath your eyelid. That's all. On the street, tears will fall onto the sidewalk and fill up your shoes. Say the sun is in your eye. Maybe you have pinkeye. If you show your grief, it won't go away. If you keep it secret, it won't go away. It is with you forever and ever, but there may be an hour when you don't remember. An evening when the sky is blue as ink. An afternoon when your daughter runs after a cricket she will never catch. Whisper your baby's name. Then be quiet. If you're lucky, you'll hear the name said back to you every time you close your eyes.

Adapted from Connecting: Twenty Prominent Authors Write About the Relationships That Shape Our Lives (Tarcher/Putnam, 1998).

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