Swing 0402

Swing 0402 by mliu92
Swing 0402, a photo by mliu92 on Flickr.

Dear J-

Forget the posture, or the lighting, or the expression, because all of those are of no consequence. When we told her today that we were meeting up with a few of her friends from the old preschool/daycare, she put her foot down and said she wouldn’t go (this after she got up at dark:30 this morning, and me having stayed up late in kinda-sorta celebration of having had a chance at not having to go into work this weekend). We were done with breakfast by 7 and had the whole yawning day ahead of us, and the centerpiece of that was looking in jeopardy.

We went. She consented to it. And by the time we walked up and heard the kids screaming out her name, running over to greet her, it was clear that she’d have a great time, and they all ran around for a couple of hours, trying this, then that, and all over the equipment too. I tell you that I’m always amazed by the rate that people grow up — I’m reminded of this as one of the women I work with was born in 1987, the same year that my cousin who I helped babysit while we were growing up, and she’s the oldest of the cousins on that side of the family besides us and some others that grew up in China and oh god does that makes me feel old — it’s the little things like worn-out shoes and outgrown clothes and loose teeth that remind me that she’s not a baby any more, as clear as those memories of 2007 might be.

I haven’t seen much of the family this past week, or really, even this past month. We’ve kicked into high gear for document preparation which in practical terms means that instead of regular dinner and schedule with the family I’ve managed to eat with them now twice this week, folks at the office are looking more familiar, and I’m gobsmacked by pictures like this: regularly now this kid seems to have appeared from nowhere, all lean and with more than a trace of the woman she’ll grow up to be already evident in her face. How did we get so lucky? Where does the time go?



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