Yesterday morning Helena & I drove over to school to sign some very important papers.
The ball point pen pressed into the duplicates as I scrawled my signature on the final line, next to the date. As I re-read everything carefully, she began to squirm in my lap. I gave her a cracker and she stood at my feet, happily swaying. I looked down at her. “This is for you, baby girl.” I felt relief, fear, excitement as I set the pen down.
I walked down the hall to my “old” art room, peering in the dark glass. I had forgotten my key. A lump rose up in my throat. “Did I make a mistake? Am I throwing my career away?” A beautiful reminder began to wriggle in my arms once more and I talked myself down. “This is for you. I will not regret this on your first day of Kindergarten, as you graduate High School, on your wedding day…”
I will be back to sort through stacks of warped tempera paintings, wobbly pinch pot towers and the infamous junk drawer in my desk. I never did get that under control…
