I read Shakespeare’s plays to my children when they were three and six. I read while they ate lunch because it was the only time those two could sit still. Great literature was new to me so I stumbled over Mr. Shakespeare’s words and rhythms.
Even so, Paul and Anna named our independent, terrier puppy Cardinal Wolsey. One day ‘pensive’ was our new word, and Paul flopped his chin down on top of his fist and called out, “I’m pensive!” Then he slipped his second fist under his chin and announced, “I’m double pensive!!”
I stand outside. The sign on the door announces, ‘closed’ so I don’t even try the knob.
An hour later I’m inside and the sign on the door to outside says, ‘closed’ so I don’t grab the door knob.
Sometimes I don’t open all the doors I could. Sometimes I live below my approbation.
It amazes me how many tiny quarks spin around, like scribbles, and work together to make parts of atoms. Some atoms spin around and decide to work together as cells of Anna. Inside Anna, tiny wiggling animals and plants becoming essential parts of my daughter’s digestion, brain, and sparling eyes.
Anna as a child, wearing a red hat.
Yes, she has big bright eyes but her hair is acid yellow, her shirt is in turmoil, and she is so traumatized there is hardly a drop of blood behind her skin. Behind her, the world is haunted with shadows but behind her eyes there is hope.