enough

The sky darkened this afternoon. For the first time in months, thunder rumbled off in the distance, a better harbinger of springtime than the tiny daffodils growing in a pot by our window.

For a treat, I turned on the gas fireplace and put two big sofa pillows on the brick hearth. I sat on one, my back glowing warm, and Annika took the other. My arm draped over her, she nestled her head into the warmest space between my arm and breast.

We both watched Frankie, still in her nightgown worn holey by her big sister's years of use. She did a delicate butterfly dance on tiptoes before us. The navy blue waffle weave of her long underwear darted out as the dress billowed around her. When did she find this grace?

We were listening to the sound of Patty Griffin, her voice taking us from the vulnerability of a whisper to notes sung strong enough to press you with an unflinching lack of vibrato.

Frankie was nearly floating now, a vision in pink polyester, to the piano of the song Burgundy Shoes.

sun... sun... sun...

"Sun," the word over and over, sung from our speakers.

The rain was coming down outside, full and thickened in the almost-freezing air. The rain caught in the window screens, streaking, nearly solid, and sparkly in the gray light, like diamond necklaces unclasped and falling slowly to the ground.

Frankie grasped her hands above her head, and bent at the waist slowly. Upright again, a twirl, and she tilted her chin up and sideways, revealing a single streak of purple marker along her jawline. A line drawn quickly and surreptitiously, a secret delight, like a tattoo. This is what I can do; this is who I am.

sun... sun... sun...

Annika lifted her head, "I like the way Frankie dances." She sighed, and dropped her head onto my lap.

sun... sun... sun...

The moment was almost enough to make anything true.

Sun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The link to the song above broke, so here's this instead

 

 

Comments

[Abigail]

Beautiful. Thankyou.

At moments like that I think, "This. Oh, this."

[Andrea]

That's beautiful, MOreena.

[Lauren]

What a nice way to spend a rainy day!

[erin]

They're like tiny spring flowers themselves, those girls, slowly emerging through the thaw.

I love my gas logs. I turn them on and curl up close with a book and try not to think how it's really just money I am burning up in there, and for no reason since the house is perfectly warm and using the logs actually makes other rooms *colder*, but sometimes I just can't resist. There is something so primally appealing about fire.

[jennifer]

I feel like I was born for these moments. take away your fancy dinners- awards- school plays, weddings and the like. give me a moment like this and the gift to remember it always in my heart and bones. Thank you for the reminder

[JenniferB]

What a lovely "snapshot in time" -- thank you for sharing that.

[Kyla]

Beautiful. I love moments like those.

[jeanie]

I love little moments in life like this being so perfectly presented - thank you.

[liz]

Such loveliness.

[sylvia]

it's 11pm, rainy and quiet, and "bungundy shoes" fit right in with the atmosphere here just like yesterday with you and your daughters and the rain. thanx.

[tracey]

OK. I'm crying now. What a vision. I can just imagine it in all it's spendor. Now THAT is living in the moment and cherishing every bit of it.

[Stacy]

A wonderfully written memory. Just beautiful. :)

[My Momtra]

What an awesome visual...I feel like had the priveldge to be a fly on the wall. Thanks for sharing.