stagesPosted: July 6, 2012
On the doorstep of flying away to college
I remember two little girls in the living room standing in front of the huge upright piano and talking as young ones often do. One with silk brown hair leans against piano bench, and the other with golden curls has one finger perpetually winding a curl around it.
“Let’s play pretend.” the youngest asked followed by a long pause….
“I’m sorry, I’m too old to play pretend any more.”
I sit on the couch reading, ignored by these two as if I were furniture and still 20 years later I see it in my mind’s eye vividly. How I would turn back the clock so that pretend always mattered and shield you both from every hurt and tear. But how wrong that would have been. And here we are little bird, soar! You can best the wind and storms.