She could tell you some stories about that. You know, when I was real, real little we had a baby squirrel. Yes, a REAL one! I’m not kidding!
When she was three, they asked her what her favorite color was and she said “velvet”.
She doesn’t accidentally say “fucking” in the middle of a sentence. When she says fuck, she says it on purpose, and everyone in the room looks at her.
Her younger brother says she’s his hero.
They still talk about that night, with the entire gravy boat smashed against the wall, the rug was ruined by the fire. The neighbors must have thought there was some kind of domestic violence going on, you know what I mean? Must have thought the kids were getting the what-for.
And when she was four, the family got a new piano. The old one, the ivory on the keys peeled off like fingernails. And you could see the wood underneath. But she didn’t mind or notice.
Her grandmother was one of the first women to use punch cards while working for IBM way back in the 60’s. She still has one in her attic.
I remember, we all huddled outside in the backyard with a boom box. My cousin said he had something to play for me. That was the first time I heard electronic music.
Do I look okay? What do you think? Do I look pretty enough for you?
Photos of the Christening were all destroyed at the airport. We never let Daniel be in charge of the film again.
One night, Calicopaws came into mom’s bedroom to wake her up. The baby was blue choking in her crib. It was a miracle cat.
It was the fourth grade talent show and she wrote her own composition. But I think it was the bassoon. What a cacophony.
Before this, her favorite cousin was killed by a drunk driver.
She holds you in bed and sighs sweetly like crinoline. Says she can’t ever fully know, but she can try to understand and support you. This is because she’s a kind person, too.
She asks you “Were you lonely in jail?” You say “Sometimes.”
She tells her first best friend from Greenwich elementary school that once in a while you get distant, but that’s just how you are. She lets you have your space and waits it out. It’s okay. You know, with the drug thing and everything. Sometimes you just need to think.
She had an uncle who suffered from alcoholism, though, so it was something her whole family struggled with it. At reunions. It’s a cause that she believes in deeply.
Pretty. Untouched by. Problems aren’t a problem for her.
No, her grandmother taught her to be strong. The wisest woman she ever knew.
Such good taste in music.
Go do that. Pretend that you’re okay, too.