Last night, for the first time in many months - perhaps years - Emma Jane came and sat at my feet and let me run my fingers through her hair. After a while, she asked me to stroke her forearm lightly with my fingernails. She has loved this ever since she was a tiny little girl. I believe her gramma Jane was the first to stroke her arm in this way. Her arm is freckled now after a summer lifeguarding in the sun, just as it was when she was tiny and we spent so much time outdoors.
Will this be the last time?
Friday evening was our last opportunity for pizza and movie night, a tradition in our house for well more than a decade. Rich made one veggie pizza and one pepperoni, just as we have done for years. Fifteen years ago, the screen-time selection included Mary Poppins (in half-hour increments), Teletubbies (uh-oh!), and Dumbo. Ten years ago, Toy Story 2 (Toy Story 1 was too scary), Babe, and Monsters, Inc. Five years ago, The Natural, A League of Their Own, and E.T. A year ago, The Hangover, Ted and Bill's Excellent Adventure, and Beetlejuice. Now we choose what we like (this week, Five Easy Pieces) because it's been months since either kid agreed to watch with us. This week, the kids ate the pepperoni, but not until hours after it came out of the oven, and with their friends instead of with us. On the plus side, our movie viewing pleasure is uninterupted by shushes.
We leave for Ball State the day after tomorrow. She's taking her student actor and monologue books with her, but allowing me to throw a half-dozen Sarah Dresslers and Twilights into the AAUW pile.
I hear her calling me now.
Will this be the last time?
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