I was wide-eyed and quietly thrilled at my first Mother’s Day Eve bash. I had the date marked on my calendar a month in advance. I wanted to get there on time as to not miss out on anything. Would I have time to take yoga and have a massage? What swimsuit should I wear? Did hot husbands really serve us wine late night?
Gita had a different look in her eye. It was dry and wry and deeply exhausted. We were finding a place to put our things in the locker room, when she looked at me and said, “All I really want to do is take a shower.”
All the amenities and offerings, foot massages and facials, so many fabulous people to catch up with, and homegirl was gonna spend it all in the shower?
She unloaded things from her bag—little shampoo, body wash, razor. A hint of total bliss radiated from her huge eyes as she wrapped herself in her towel and made her own way.
I recalled living in the dorms my first year of college. How anxious I felt those first few times I had to make my way down the long corridor to the communal bathrooms, my little shower caddy filled with the toiletries I’d bought with my mom the August before. I shuffled around in my room gathering myself, self-conscious and unsure. Gita was like the sophomores who lived upstairs. All old hat confidence.
I watched Gita move with absolute conviction and stood still, mildly aimless. While I debated the myriad bits of this new life, this new community, this new role, my homie knew exactly what she needed from the evening. A few precious minutes of privacy. Where no one needed her or could interrupt her or could make her think that the simple act of conditioning her hair was anything but essential.
That’s what makes this evening so beautiful. We can all take exactly what we want.
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This post was originally published on BlogHer.com on April 26th, 2013.