the waiter of previous worship hates me. either that or i make him very uncomfortable --not the nervous-and-excited-because-joe-likes-me kind of uncomfortable, but the irritated-and-annoyed-that-joe-is-attracted-to-me kind of uncomfortable. believe me, i've seen others affected by me in the same way before. and i know this is adolescent. i wasn't kidding when i said i was stuck somewhere between eighth grade and real life.
he's one of the adults who grew-up, learned acceptance, took on responsibility. he has an intuition --like everybody --that tells him when something is right and when something is wrong. he's 27 and he is one of the adults; i am 42 and i am still not.
he skiis. he's the oldest of five boys. they all ski. there was a 6-month old at the table next to us. whenever Jason came in the vicinity, the baby's face lit-up and he wouldn't take his eyes off Jason. Jason likes kids. Stephanie's question, 'do you like kids?' led to him telling us he is the oldest of five, that he grew-up taking care of kids since he was a kid. he even allows that he has some anxiety when they all go skiing, about his youngest brother who just started skiing this year. it is very sweet to appreciate from the perspective of my years the concern of an elder in the eyes of one so young as Jason. and the baby across the aisle remains fascinated by the beautiful young man who can't remember my name.
the 6-month old and this 510-month old both have the same keeness of perception borne of a need to thrive, and are both attuned to the same clues; who is generous?, who is kind?, who is my mirror.
who can i trust?