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Monday, February 22, 2010

the hand you're dealt

there's a shift under the skin right now. have you felt it, too? sort of like a hunger rumbling, crashing into walls while others are silent, heads turned toward the distraction with hands above eyes.
i've felt it. and the aftershocks.
watched hearts break wide open into puddles and i'm ill prepared with my slippers on wet ground.
sometimes i don't know how to help except to not help at all.

she grows out of shoes too fast. i can't keep up with her feet, trailing behind her with inappropriate summer slippers that will be discarded come rain or come shine because they will no longer fit her toes. she wears rain boots at the beach because at least she can walk and collect rocks in her basket and i can worry a little less.
maybe if i stick her in a pillowcase like a kitten i can carry her around and she will purr against soft cotton.

i think she said 'damnit' today. and i looked around to accuse someone, the mirror smudged with yesterday's findings. bryan taught her to say 'oh shoot' and she walks the hall with tiny fingers
ohshootohshootohshoot
sounding a bit like a person with a foreign dialect from a land i've never been to, only heard about. 
i'm hoping she'll remember what it feels like from where she stands so that in later years when i ask her to remind me she'll have stories to tell.

we host poker once a week at the house. i haven't won in months. it's not that i like losing, i just don't have the patience to care to win. all in. with a 2/7.
there's a metaphor in there i'm sure.

14 comments:

  1. They do grow so fast; you're at a good place in life, enjoy.

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  2. I've felt the same shift. Sometimes the best way to help others is to sit with their pain or growth and not to try to mend it or fix it or talk about it or cover it up...just sit with it, sit in it, and let it be what it will be until it slips off the front porch and finds someone else.

    Which it always does.

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  3. i don't know how to help except not help at all" - I get it. I really get it!

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  4. "watched hearts break wide open into puddles and i'm ill prepared with my slippers on wet ground". Mmmm, another one of those yummy phrases that will stick with me awhile. Glad I pulled up a chair and got my glasses out!

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  5. You're right. It goes too fast! Beautiful and inspiring post as always.

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  6. I used to curse the smudges and the marks, but now I revel in the things my little ones leave behind. I have a 2 month old Oreo disaster handprint on my kitchen wall. It looks so perfect, almost planned. I keep it there to remind me how little they are for now.

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  7. Every line was beautiful.
    That shift, I feel it.
    (and I will have to try and teach the three year old to say oh shoot instead of a few other choice words he's picked up...)

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  8. Your words are simply musical, my dear.

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  9. She'll grow into a wise and loving woman, this child of yours with her big eyes and beautiful face. How could she not, when she has such wise and loving parents?

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  10. I came here from visiting Laura's blog and seeing a recommendation about your comments. I knew if you wrote beautiful comments that you would write beautiful blogs. I was right. Lovely. And your photograpy is beautiful too. I look forward to visiting again.

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  11. Your way with words always makes me gasp with awe and a little bit of envy. Hey? Guess what? I WON!! (At BSP) I won, I Won, I W O N!!! I love Chronicle Books - how lucky am I? Thanks for taking me there.

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  12. Hey, love. Why don't you submit this post over at IndieInk.org I'm working over there, now. I really love it. I want that site to be even more brilliant than it is. To do so, it needs great writers like you.

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use your kind words.