Such magic. Cinco de Abril means our Joyful girl has celebrated another birthday- her 4th to be exact! She and I enjoyed our semi-usual 3.5 mile trek up to the fire station on 24th, and back. Lloyd picked up an essential chocolate cake and pizzas today, and Sayler and I had the wherewithal to get her gifts a few weeks ago pre-Covid19 lockdown. It was a most-perfect birthday celebration at home. In anticipation, I interviewed Alana Joy last night on her last night of being 3. Here were her answers: 1. What’s your name? “Alana” 2. What do you like to draw? “Me” 3. What makes you happy? “My class” 4. What makes you sad? “When somebody hurts me” 5. What makes you laugh? “My class” 6. How old are you? “Six” (she’s 3) 7. How old is Mommy? “Uhhhhhh... I can’t know (panics).... “I still can’t know!” 8. How old is Daddy? (Stressed and panicked) “I CANT KNOW” 9. What is your favorite thing to do? “Play with Sammy” (our dog) 10. What do you want to be when you grow up? “A teacher” 11. What is you...
"Dear Bobby, I love you. I always look forward to when my husband leaves for work, and you sneak into bed with me. Sometimes, you will wake me up, but usually, you just lie there next to me waiting for my eyes to open." Bobby. You are a cat. But you are the cat of all cats. Unliked some others whose names I will not mention.... you like being a cat. You are my original Obi Kenobi... But you don't like your name and insist I call you "Bobby" or "Bob". You are my predator. You can catch anything- including a rabbit almost twice your size. I remember the time you brought a baby possum into our home. I had just awakened and sleepily headed to use the bathroom when, peering from inside the toilet, was a little possum begging to be released. You cheeky bastard, Bobby. That poor possum. I scolded you and you just turned the other whisker, as if to say "look lady... I am a cat, that's how I do...." The other cats beg for forgiveness when ...
If I done that, I wouldn't have this. If anything were different then, I wouldn't have Sayler. And in the years that followed her birth, if I'd done anything differently, I wouldn't have Alana. I wonder about "what ifs" I sometimes stare at pictures, or I get lost in memories, or I hear something on the radio or see something that makes me pause and wonder "what if?" And then I remember, on a day like today, that I'm in my car, parked outside of an elementary school, and I am waiting for my almost-six year old. And I wouldn't be outside this very school, waiting for that very girl, if it weren't for things exactly as they've turned out. But then I drift.... Back into a "what if?" Could I have changed anything? Could I have made anything better? Could I have made anyone healthier? Could I have said more? Done more? And then I remember if anything had changed many years ago, I wouldn't be in this exact white car, with ...
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