Miss Jane!

Last week Jane asked me if there was a song that reminded me of her whenever I hear it. Immediately I was transported back to a moment almost eleven years ago. It was in the car an the way home from the hospital where Jane was born. I was feeling particularly weepy that day because we had decided that Jane would be our last child, and I was struggling with coming to terms with never being pregnant again, never going through the birthing process, never having that monumental first night alone with a brand new baby at my breast. The finality of it all weighed heavy on my fragile emotions of the moment, and I began to cry. And then a song came on the radio. Something about the music soothed me immediately (the words don't really mean much, so I won't include them here). I knew in that moment that this song would always remind me of Jane. I was filled with extreme gratitude for my precious little gift who slept in her infant seat behind me. Ever since Jane was very small, she's been a child who cares deeply for others. She is a natural nurturer--whenever anyone is sad or lonely, she is the first to comfort and care. She loves to touch and make connections with everyone in the family. She hugs and kisses and loves. Ever since that day in the car on the way home from the hospital, Jane has brought a soothing influence to my life. Jane turns 11 tomorrow. We're having a Spa Party with her friends for her birthday. It will be filled with soothing, comforting activities like facial masks, foot baths and massages. What a fitting way for my sweet Jane to celebrate her 11th birthday. I love you, Jane!

Emma through the glass

Time sure has a way of passing us by, doesn't it? For example, when Emma was baptized on her 8th birthday, her Uncle Greg said to me, "Just think, only eight more years until she's driving and dating!" Of course he was giving me a hard time, and I immediately told him to shut the heck up. How could it be possible that my little angel of an Emma Lu could ever grow up enough to drive a car. Or worse--to date a boy!


But guess what? It's happened. Emma turned 16 last month, and she got her driver's license and had her first date. How did this happen?




















Here's the poem I wrote for Emma's birthday:


Its neck,
long and slender as her own,
knows the soft white fingers of her hand.
The body's curves
between shoulders and
rounded bottom
mirror the beginnings of
her own blossoming form.
Each coaxes music
from the other.


She draws her bow across strings
of time, each note perfectly attached to the next.
Whole notes first, wobbling and unsure
until they divide--
quarters, marching forward
lagging faintly behind the
tick, tick, tick
of the metronome.
Elbow, wrist, fingers dance slowly
as they learn where to fall,
where to hold.


Steady quarters give birth to eighths, then sixteenths.
Fingers dance--lithe and rigid--
up and down strings
four to a tick,
her stretched fingers bent
on conquering the moment
before it is lost.
They skip in a blur
so much so that none can say where
the previous has come from,
nor where the future will go.


Sixteen years slip from
her bow
and resonate throughout
the curves of bodies.


Until they divide again.



Today Emma is attending an orientation meeting for her new job. She'll be working at Lagoon this summer. A real job for a real 16 year old.


Where did the time go? It's just like "Julie Through the Glass." (Go 4:36 into the video below, and be sure to have a tissue handy!)