a fine mingling of letting go and holding on

“That’s what I can do with my fifty dollars,” my daughter muses quietly, mostly to herself. I say, What’s that? and she replies, “I can give it to a homeless person.” She turns her eyes to me; they are large, liquid brown, filled with love; her eyes are smiling. “The eyes of the Buddha”, a friend recently reported to me about this child.

I wrap my arms around her while we wait in line; a small number of household sundries in the Walmart. I had a rough morning today, worse than I’ve had in a while. Being out with my daughter is balm, soothing my nerves.

It’s cold enough out that in the evenings and early mornings one has to be careful not to slip on black ice. It gets dark so early it feels like I’m living in darkness. Today a friend mentions Spring and it reminds me how deep into winter I go. I resign myself to the cold and depths, and I hold on for dear life. Somehow I forget that Spring comes, I really do.

[ deep breath ]