Wow. March 7th.My last post was March 7th, and the narrator is almost silent.
When I was writing Chrysalisbreak regularly, I heard her all the time.
Her observations brought tasty metaphors to mundane moments of my day.
She made it all real. She gave my life form and color and meaning.
I miss her, as I would miss a lover, or a favorite hoodie.
(Clearly, I think very highly of my lovers)
And now so much has happened.
I can't go back.
I can't go back and remember the moment on the tea cups at Disneyland.
We spontaneously flowed into them. We trickled into a porcelain time machine to when I was a girl.
Only now, I am my mother. I am equally invested in childhood magic, and equally relieved when I see it reflected in their faces. Now I am the one who carries all their jackets. I push the stroller. I bring the snacks. I arbitrate disagreements like Judge Judy so we can get back to the business of chasing Tinkerbell and her glittering dust trail.
I only sense the after taste, now. The same way that a smell can rustle up another time. It rolls around in my subconscious but I can't place it or live it again.
I recognize it when I see it though.
Nothing is diluted for Pepper, and Sophie gets swept up as well.
"There's Cinderella! and Aurora!" She waves and stands on her tip toes. We are in line for the tea cups for the 2nd time and we are watching Disneyland parade her cast through the park.
Pepper is wearing a lime green Tinkerbell skirt made of sparkling leaves. A small yellow bow is in her hair.She put it their herself.
Her hair still holds moisture from the beach and it seems to breath the way only a Disney Princess's can.
Sophie is on her tip toes too. She is teetering on the edge of child and teenager.
This may be the last breath of little girl I get to see in her.
I reach out and hold her hand. I watch her. I am in awe of her eyelashes, and her dark features.
Soon she will not know how beautiful she is.
Beckam is shouting. He is pumping his fist. He roars out the names of characters he knows. He is swept into the moment too. But mostly, he wants to spin that tea cup wheel with all of his strength. He lets his head roll around on his neck, laughing. Then he remembers he has a job to do and he bores his head into the chore.
I look over at Andrew.
He is spinning the wheel too and Beckam keeps pushing his hands off.
Our eyes meet and say to each other with huge exhale...
"We did it."
Pepper must have found the pixie dust trail.
Because she followed it all the way out of the park.
As others were dragging their feet, their strollers, their tired kids to the shuttle, she skipped.
Arms wind-milled around like wings, and a little song dribbled behind her.
