Today we are preparing for Eden’s half birthday, her “Friend Party”. She has been busy gathering streamers and rifling though the cupboard that contains all our baking supplies. Just a moment ago she called out, “I want to use this to put my cake on.”
I had a feeling that “this” was the antique glass cake pedestal that I store on the top shelf of the baking cupboard. I hustled into the kitchen to find Eden squatting on the counter with the pedestal beside her. She was smiling widely and seeing her rang a sort of bell, but I wasn’t sure what. I rifled my visual memory for photographs of her or her sister and then I realized, she was making me think of me. Squatting there on the counter, a sweet and utterly satisfied smile on her face, she was an echo of a younger me, except with Paul’s blue and sleepy eyes.
I don’t usually look for myself in my children; producing three near clones of their father has kept me from that. And yet there are times, like this morning, where our likenesses flash out and I see, if for only a moment, that I am not just a conduit, but a spring, a well.
Okay dear, if this bit does not scream “I am a Writer!” then I do not know what does…this is a gem, pure diamond…
Thanks, Angela. This made me feel shy.
I am thankful for this blog as it invites me to record the small things. Sometimes it’s a note dashed and other times it’s something more.