Sitting on the banks of the Delaware, on the deck of a house belonging to friends, I read while Peter and his buddies fished a few yards away. Engrossed by my book, I barely noticed my surroundings, except when the creatures in the story seemed to come to life. A large centipede materialized inches from my toes. Deer emerged from the thickets, undeterred by my presence. An extra-large moth landed on my shoulder, as if on cue.
It was May and prime flyfishing season. Peter and his pals came here for just that. I had joined him, upon his insistence. We were on the verge of a divorce. I didn’t know what this weekend would hold.
From the splashes and hoots that came from the water, I knew the guys were reeling in the fish. One after another. They returned excited, jovial, celebratory. They broke out the scotch. Glass after glass of Macallan. We finished the bottle and were lit for the rest of the evening. At midnight, the guys went back out to the water, their angling aided by the light of the full moon.
Nearly nine months later, I found myself questioning what would be happening to us once this baby was born. At one point, I looked into the face of the man I was ready to leave just months before and asked, “What if she doesn’t like me?” After all, it wasn’t that long ago when I questioned how much he liked me. He leaned in to try to get his arms around me and her, “Of course, she’ll like you. Oh Cecilia, she’ll love you. How could she not?”
“I wish you were here.” She texted me the other day. I responded, “Me too!” but I didn’t really mean it. I am glad she is there, doing what she’s dreamed of, and enjoying every minute of it. While I love that she wants me with her, I’m only glad to let her go. I do wish I were there to see her face when she saw that first wild sloth, or the one that hung upside down just feet from her, or the tiny baby who reached out to touch her. I wish I were there waiting for her to return after her observations so I could see and hear the excitement in her voice telling me about her evening as she slowly falls asleep. I wish I were there to explore other parts of Costa Rica, but I’m so proud of her for going there on her own. I wouldn’t want to spoil that accomplishment. I wouldn’t want to take that away.
As she turns 23, I’m thankful for her opportunity to study sloths in Costa Rica. As soon as she got to The Sloth Institute, she was able to see a Vet revive an unconscious baby. Using telemetry, she ventures into the jungle each night to track her tagged targets. While there, she’s encounters snakes, scorpions, tree frogs. She’s been lucky enough to see elusive nocturnal creatures like tamandua, ocelots, bats and of course, the sloths. (Sigh)
I can’t help thinking that she was conceived on a magical night that changed the fate of Peter and me. That she was the product of that full-moon, a prolific night of fishing, when the stars aligned and the river bore fruit. And from that moment forward, she has proven to us that we were meant to be, meant to be together. After all, she was born to prove Peter wrong. That he was meant to a be a father and his daughter (and son) would give his life meaning.
Macallan as a child would turn out to be an amazing animal whisperer. She rode horses as a toddler and continues to wrangle into adulthood. She fishes, hikes, picks up snakes, slugs, and scorpion. She is unafraid of the night, the ocean, the river and the forest. She is most at home in the wild.
I foster what I can; her art, singing, performing, although she didn’t get those talents from me.
Together, Peter and I encourage her in all her pursuits, although we won’t take credit for her country music leanings or her love of tattoos. We couldn’t be prouder of her accomplishments, her talents, her beauty and brains…and we know that while she may be the best of us, she was divinely blessed by the very elements she has always embraced.
Happy 23rd Birthday, Macallan! We’re sorry we won’t be there to help you celebrate but we hope it’ll be a birthday you’ll always remember - there among the animals of the night and the marine creatures by day.
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