Saturday, December 18, 2010
It's the end of the movie. I'm restless, hungry. On the screen they begin speaking of loss, another world, wondering, wanting, missing. I shift back and forth in my seat. I look to my left. J is crying. On the way to dinner after he says, "I miss my little girl." I want to stand on a beach, speak with a lion, or God, or anyone who can offer reassurance. I know I can't have her back, but will someone please promise me she's safe, warm, happy? I feel like I didn't love her enough while she was here. I want to close my eyes, open them to that sunny morning in May, kiss her sweet face, come back here, know with great relief I did enough.