The Ask. Day Two.

***Self-portrait outside men's room at Mesa Verde National Park, CO. In the time it took The Tall One to score tickets for our entry into the park, we snapped more than 60 pictures in an attempt to center us in the frame. We never succeeded. It was hot. We had plenty of water.***

I promised you a post on "the ask." Asking for things. Something I'm usually very good at. Or have LEARNED to be good at. Until I'm not. Or until I'm scared. But, I'm going to have to ask for your patience.
Today has been an outdoor day. An outdoor day of flag football pictures and flag football games. And getting our flags pulled and thrown all over that field. Today was an outdoor day of friend fun and church family fun. And chili cook-off fun.
Today was a glorious good day. In full sun. With a beautiful breeze. Outdoors. With potato chips and Gatorade and lots of little boys on scooters with skinned knees and Band-Aids.
And I'm feeling a little overcooked. And out of patience.
My "ask" post is very important to me. In it, I'll refer to my college days and a beloved professor w/ pointy boots. I refer, of course, to My Mama. And I refer to friends who care for me such that I never have to ask.
I also plan an important "note-writing" installment.
A "not-quitting" installment.
And a post about Alexander Godunov. Rest his soul.
I've a post on "girl trips" and Bunco and back-to-school shopping.
But, first. Today. After this non-stop outdoor day. I need to ask a favor. For some quiet.
I remember days in my hometown. Days that were hot before there were Tropical Sno stands on several corners. Days when grocery shopping occasionally took the place of unstructured play and moms and daughters were tired. Those were the days when I remember Mama giving me permission to be quiet.
"May I have some quiet time," she'd say. In a quiet and calm voice. It told me, "You do not need to fill this space w/ talking and questioning and reasoning. Not right now."
It told me, "I enjoy this time with you when we are companions who respect one another's physical space and vocal space."
It told me, "You've said enough for now and so have I, but your words mean more to me than me quickly and carelessly saying, 'Be quiet'."
It told me, "I'm asking for you to let me sit quietly."
And this made the silence-seeking MINE to grant.
My Mama was and is so wise that way. If the choice was and is safely mine to make, she did and does let me make it.
I gave Mama MY PERMISSION to ride quietly with me ... with my feelings intact and our mouths closed.
I thank Mama for that. For giving me permission to sit quietly.
It made me understand that we do not need to feel every available space w/ conversation. Or noise. Or loud television and radio.
Unfortunately, we're not always able to seek that permission in life for things. Anymore. Even if we ask nicely. But, once in awhile, it's nice to ask. Grant. And listen to the quiet.
Today I'm tired. A little bit dirty. And, because I know I can, I'm asking for some quiet time like I gave Mama and she gave me.
I know you'll understand.
A glorious good nite.