The joy of movement. Words. Food & memory.


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Good is the mere recognition: a card and a new outfit – or toy (all purple and pink, of course).  Good is showing up, acknowledging that you’re three, four, and now five.  Good is eating deep-fried chicken nuggets, apple slices and cake, and remembering to eat a proper lunch before arriving because all that tea-party theme is good for is your imagination, and nobody’s blood sugar. Good is knowing that the card will be in the trash within the week (the wrapping paper sooner, torn to shreds without being admired).

Good enough, that I remembered your birthday in order to mail you that package with the card and gift (don’t forget the gift!) in time for your day.

Better is our presence, a family reunion of sorts: you get to see us, we get to see you, and for a brief weekend, we’re close.  Better is a card you’ll pore over because it’s different and grabs your fancy, because I’ve written, in careful cursive, some thoughts that you know you’ll want to read when you understand more – when you’re fifteen, twenty and twenty-five.  Better is the gift that won’t get tossed aside after a week because you already have that toy, or so many of the same.  Better is the gift that didn’t get put aside until you were older, but you enjoyed every day. From this moment of five and every other moment until twenty-five.  If we’re both lucky to have found something that endures.

Best is that unique birthday you’ll remember forever because Uncle and Auntie were there, and the weekend together sparked magic that formed your first, earliest memories.


Written by marginfades

June 22, 2014 at 1:37 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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