Really.
Truly.
I play those seemingly insignificant games of chase with them, video games, hide and seek, tag. I lay sprawled on the floor watching silly cartoons. We laugh and laugh together. They are so happy and careless and seem to float on air. Their eyes seem to have this immortal glow. Anna says, I wish I was in high school already. I tell her, Don’t wish that. It only gets harder. You’re so happy now! You don’t see.
She can’t even read yet.
When I laugh with them, I feel like a child. I needed this so much.
I dread putting them to sleep.
One of my favorite memories of elementary school was receiving the package of books I would order from the Scholastic book magazines. I would order 5 – 10 books at a time. I always ordered the most. The books would come in a medium sized box and opening it..was the best part.
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I am reading a new book called Lighthousekeeping. It is by Jeanette Winterson, the author of Sexing the Cherry.
I read these lines,
“They were in the garden raking leaves. He leaned on his rake and looked at her, their tiny daughter on all fours, feeling the different-shaped edges of the leaves. He picked one up and felt it himself; hornbeam it was, serrated, corrugated, nothing like the fronds of the ash, or the flat, spotted, palm-sized curling sycamore, or the oak, sporting acorns and still green.
He wondered how many days he had in his life– in his whole life– and when they had fallen one by one, and him naked again, time’s covering gone, would the leaves be heaped up, the rotting pile of his days, or would he recognise them still–those different-edged days he had called his life?”
I liked these lines.
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