“Mom, can we paint my room pink? For when sissy is born?” By pink, she means bright pink. Vibrant, saturated, in-your-face petunia pink. I draw the line, seeing if she’ll step across. “Maybe a soft pink, honey. Like a light pink. The color of Clara’s roses. It might be hard to sleep if your room […]
David is so little and so big. He is now so many, many things. I am joyful and sorrowful at the thought. It’s not just that David is getting older, which, like all moms, I want and cannot bear to think about at alternating times in the middle of the same night. It’s that we are also coming up on Clara’s two year–her birthday, or anniversary or angelversary. I honestly still don’t know how to phrase July 13 through July 15, 2016, except to say that they were her days. Her beautiful, powerful days.
The Wonderfully Made Life 