i love talk radio.
i have ever since i was a small child. i used to steal away with my little am/fm radio that was gifted to me one Christmas, and hide it under my pillow at night, listening to some talk radio show from the big city of Chicago.
i was not from anywhere near Chicago, and had never been there, so the origin of the show itself seemed so exotic and cool. and, the deep voice of the show's host, who spoke with callers-in about various topics of the day, was soothing and comforting. i'd cuddle-up under the bed covers and listen intently for hours.
it anchored me in my sometimes chaotic childhood and helped me fall asleep.
so, it's no surprise that i listen to talk radio still today. i have a deep fondness for it. driving to and from work (public transportation really isn't the best option for me based on my home and work locales), i listen to it religiously. in fact, whenever i am in the car, i listen to it - driving emma to gymboree, running errands, or going out in the evening - i tend to have it on, foresaking music for those who relay the news, who cover stories of ordinary people in far-flung towns that i have never been, who make the very ordinary sometimes seem extraordinarily rich with detail and life.
driving to the drycleaners this weekend, i was listening to one of my favorite stations. a story on National Public Radio (NPR) covered the newest album of a not-too-weathered music artist who had a soft, sultry voice and a life of experience to impart upon her faithful listeners.
there was so much poetry in her words - and in the coverage of a few similar stories that hour on NPR - that i was flooded with memories of how transformative for me have been the struggles and triumphs of strangers who will never meet me and i will never meet in turn; how much they have moved me to do, act, feel, be.
in the musician's discussion of an instrument she used, the interviewer asked how she managed it - didn't it essentially just overpower her with its size and scope.
she responded that it did not, actually.
instead, she said that it served as her anchor. it actually anchored her on stage. and, in way, she made it sound like it anchored her in life.
many things, people, images, beliefs are evoked when i ponder what anchors me most in my life today.
this past year, so many of the challenges that my husband and i have faced, confronting the truth of our daughter's diagnosis, have felt overpowering.
but, we have found anchors in the faces and support of some of our close family, old and new friends, strangers, friends made through this blog, community, voices on the radio....
but, as i really think about it, emma has been my greatest anchor. she has grounded me in a way i can't really fully understand or explain.
though her struggles and challenges are cumbersome, overwhelming, and sometimes feel like they might dwarf me, she - her essence, her presence, her love - actually anchor me.
and move me
to be her anchor