Last night we watched old videos, the kind shot on a first generation phone, blown up onto the television screen so the pixels flickered like dust particles before our eyes. Ten-second snippets of pony rides at the park, your made-up love songs and melodramas, a rendition of Swan Lake enacted with tufts of Kleenex bunched in your fists like feathers. You were four.
My heart ached to see your freshness, your radiant bliss, while knowing that I spent each of those incandescent days nearly blind, half-wishing them over, half-wishing them done.
Where will I gather the spent blooms? I’ll gather them here, an offering and a testament to every day’s amazing grace, every moment’s hidden treasure. It’s never too late to find it. It’s never too late to love. Come see.
Mindful Mothering live chat on The Motherhood, Thu., Feb. 10, 1 pm EST
The Plunge at Asilomar, Monterey, Calif., Sat., Feb. 12, 9:30-4
Beginner’s Meditation Retreat, Los Angeles, Calif., Sun., March 13, 9-3
Love Beyond Limits Workshop, Wash., DC, Sat., April 30, 2-4
The Living Brush: Writers & Artists Retreat, Tepotzlan, Mexico, June 24-29