School opened late this morning because of a snow storm yesterday. It was still several inches high on the driveway as J stood there waiting for the school bus. Unlike other days, when I wait by the front door to see her get into the bus, I was upstairs by the window keep an eye on her as I got ready for work. At some point, I caught the sound of J singing to herself as she kicked the snow around. The sound of her voice intermingling with the chirping birds creating a moment of perfection. She being herself, unaware of my presence or of the magic she had helped make. I had to share what I had experienced with the one who would feel it just like I did - enjoy my happy place with me.
I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...
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