“a portrait of each of my children, once a week, every week, in 2014”
liam // I found an adapted copy of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde in the dollar section this summer. You read it quickly then and loved every bit of it. This weekend, you picked it up to read again–a perfect story for our dreary weather. Maybe you’re tired of seeing images of yourself with books by now, but I promise you’re almost always with one in reach. They impact the way you tell and write your own stories, too. You are and will always be a storyteller at heart.
burke // If I could only tell you how often I catch you in thought, staring into space, rehearsing your favorite movie scenes, stories, and jokes. You’re so comfortable in that manner of contemplation. I so appreciate this about you.
blythe // After waiting for over a year, your father and I finally decided you were responsible enough to have your ears pierced. It was our birthday gift to you, and you couldn’t stop touching and twisting them the entire weekend.
olive // This week, you put on your apron and pretended to be a doctor. I was your patient. You listened to my heart (we’ve been studying the circulatory system) and then touched my legs, reporting, “You will need to run each morning and evening for one week.” “But what about my children?” I replied. “Oh, leave your children with your husband. He can watch them, but you need to run,” she retorted. “You also need to eat vegetables: broccoli, spinach, carrots. Then you’ll feel better. Come see me again next week.” I laughed at your wise council, and think it might be exactly what I needed to hear right now. (Wink.)
