Peter and I were walking down the street today, L in his arms. As we passed a young man and woman, I heard the woman say "That was a cute-ass baby."
I repeated what she said to Peter, who hadn't heard it. He chuckled.
Then I thought Alice would appreciate this moment. I wanted to call her and tell her, and she would say "ohhooo, she's right! How is my cute-ass boubrig?" in her typical, exuberant manner. I would appreciate her excitement as a representation of what I also felt inside, yet I would have difficulty joining her at the same level of energy. We could easily go from happy to snappy in a flash, so I was careful.
Of course I didn't call her. Instead I realized in her absence I could write about this all in my blog, to find some comfort in expressing it.
It doesn't change the yearning I feel to talk to her and connect with her and laugh with her, still.
