From the category archives:
We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your [...]
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Cheap restaurant. Me: I’ll have the Crispy Chicken Salad. H: (to waitress) Yeah, our MOM has to try something new, because I’M trying something new. That’s our DEAL. Me: That’s right. Can I get that with oil and vinegar? H: Usually Mommy ALWAYS gets that other salad, the BUFFALO one? But then she always goes [...]
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S: Did you lick the slime off me when I was born? Me: (squints) Wait, seriously? S: Yes. Me: No. Seriously. S: Goats do.
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I want to write something of it down for safekeeping—something I can give to you, something to help you remember your courage when it’s slipped your mind in the future. Courage has a way of slipping after a few setbacks, a few hard knocks. No one’s fault. It’s just a difficult life, sometimes. I would tell you I wish I could protect you from life’s difficulties, you and your sister both, but in truth, I would be doing you no favors. You’ve already experienced more than your share of life’s bumps and losses so far, and in spite of this (and, I think, because of it), you are becoming yourself in beautiful fashion.
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I ask Hattie Belle what I should write about today.
“Your loving daughters,” she says, without hesitation.
I swoon. I say, “You mean write about how much you guys love me?”
“NO,” she says. “About how much you love US.”
“Oh,” I say. “But you said ‘loving daughters.’ That means, uh, YOU, loving ME.”
“Oh. Okay,” she says, kind of bored. Love is BOORRRRRING.
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Soph is free-verse rapping to her sister in the bathroom: “You need a freak flag! You need to use it! You need to show it! Wherever you go it! YOU NEED A FREAK FLAG! You got it in your body! Hey, don’t be a hottie! Bring it out! Use your brain! YOU NEED A FREAK [...]
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My dearest Hattie Belle, These are difficult times for you and me. I know it’s hard to be six. I wish you knew how hard it is to be 39, with two daughters you love more than you love yourself. But you: You tell me that you are never getting married, and that you are [...]
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Do all moms hate themselves a little bit is what she asks me. She has heard me arguing with my own mother, and I have said, Yes, I know, my life sucks, thank you (voices like bones scraping bones clean) You said a bad word about your life, is what she says. It is true, [...]
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All of a sudden, we hear an odd sound: footsteps approaching, with another sound layered over top. Brushing. Hannah. She is brushing her teeth over again. By herself. With toothpaste.
Sophie and I sit up with a gasp and watch as the shadow of her little sister brushes its shadow mouth, calmly, without tears.
“Wow!” we say.
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Sophie, age 8: “Remember when Hannah had an imaginary boyfriend named Bobby? And then they were totally passe.”
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