I have really enjoyed the time I've had to spend with Megan and her family. Anton went into work a week ago last Saturday so that he could have time to go with us to the Smithsonian's National Gallery of Art. There was an exhibition, "The Sacred Made Real: Spanish Painting and Sculpture, 1600-1700," that she wanted us to see. After breakfast and Jonathan's morning nap, we met Anton at College Park (where he works) and took the metro down to the Smithsonian Mall. It was a great adventure--Meg, Anton, Jonathan and me--middle of the day and with a cool breeze blowing--we sat on benches and ate sandwiches Meg had packed. The Washington Memorial was at one end of the park and the White House at the other. Jon waundered happily up and down the grass as Anton gradually herded us across the Mall, through the Sculpture Garden, and into the National Gallery of Art.
Now began the most charming part of the day. Megan and Anton and I started looking at different exhibits as we came into the building, kind-of-sort-of heading in the general direction of the exhibition we had come to see. We meandered back and forth, seeing each other and then suddenly I had no idea where Meg and Anton were. I had Jonathan and the stroller. They both had a moment of freedom. It was a good trade.
I wasn't worried about finding them--or about making sure that I had lots of time to see the "Sacred Made Real" presentation. What I did get to do was to follow Jonathan around and watch him take in the people and sights he had never experienced before. I also got to take lots of pictures. Lots of pictures. It was cool inside and there were enough of the-people-in-charge-of-telling-the-people-who-are-lost-which-direction-they-need-to-go located around Jon and me that I didn't really ever feel anxious about ultimately discovering the location we needed to find. We went up in elevators and down some moving walk-ways. We sauntered through both of the Art Gallery gift shops. A bathroom magically appeared just as Jonathan needed a diaper change--and brass-fitted water fountains provided drink and momentary distraction as I got a few sips of water and Jonathan got both hands wet playing with the faucet.
I finally got to a place where both Meg and I had reception and I was able to reach her cell phone. Unwilling to try and find out where Jon and I were located so that she and Anton could join us, I told her that we would meet them at the Spanish exhibit we had made the trip to experience. When we all caught up with each other, Jonathan laughed with excitement as he sang to Megan all about the wonderful stuff that he had seen since he had last been with her. He hugged her and then began to "Ahhhheeahhhheeahhhh!" up and down his three note scale. People around us looked startled as Jon's sudden cascade of high pitched warbling hit the air. The people who were guarding the exhibit also looked worried--were we going to take this small, LOUD, person into the "Sacred Made Real" enclave? The three of us stood together with Jon--who by now had lapsed in to quiet as he scampered about, charging up and down the length of the two story window that made up the wall of the huge hallway. There were cars there and trucks there and people and cars and cars and CARS! Anton and I went in first and I walked quickly about the small collection--I came back out and sent Megan in to join Anton. Jon and I watched the cars drive along the street below us and then I allowed him the forbidden treasure of my cell phone. He stood right next to me as I sat on the floor. I had the phone in my hand and he saw it. Reaching for it hesitantly, he looked at me: "Can I see it? Can I touch it?" I handed it to him and he sat down next to me--silent as the night, wonder ablaze on his small face.
I got tired of it before he did, so we got up and began to walk across the great spaces of the open cross-walk. There were bright reds above us in an immense geometric mobile and before us, a set of three giant, open-center disks balanced on their vertical edges in front of a two-story glass window. Megan and Anton finished walking through the exhibit and came to meet us. We made our way back to one of the endless dining areas and shared an apple-walnut muffin and four different kinds of gelato. It was very late for Jonathan by then--of course no afternoon nap.
We arrived home in time for Meg to feed and then bathe Jonathan before he collapsed in bed. I settled down to edit my photographs. Anton and Megan did Anton and Megan stuff. It was an entirely satisfactory day. I came to help Megan to get ready for her trip to Europe--but I am going home rested and ready to face what my home in Florida holds for me. I have a math final on Monday evening, an Intro to Photography critique session on Tuesday morning--and all of the laundry that hasn't been washed, dried, folded or put away while I have been in Maryland, Brent has been working long hours, and Nathan has been studying for his own finals coming up next week.
It has been a sweet experience for me to see Megan instruct and interact with Jonathan on such an intimate, quiet level. The two of them flow together as one unit--rejoicing in the discoveries they each make during their days together. Anton is an attentive and worried father--finding frustration in not having enough hours in each day to do everything that he would want to do as he works his full-time job, fulfills his calling as the Bishop's executive secretary, spends time at home as Megan's husband and sweetheart and Jonathan's father. It is an uncomfortable balancing act that I don't think every really becomes easier--only different, as the years pass and his abilities--and his responsibilities--increase.
Megan and I got to work on our Ernest project, too. I have downloaded a sketch of Ernest's family that Meg has done--charming characters. We worked through the story prose, too. I like it more and more. Tonight she expressed delight at the chance to work creatively with someone on her art. Her days are filled with Jon's needs. It is easy to let go of the personal interests and skills that also require time and effort and attention. I do not think that she will be as lazy as I have been. Her spirit clings to her artistic, inventive compulsions--I think that it is one of the things that keeps her able to focus and remember who she is: an individual of immense talent and great nobility. I am excited to hear what she has to teach me about Ernest's new game: robin rocks.
