Sunday, June 16, 2013



"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013." Che and Fidel.

Cohen: Watching with awe and adoration as balloons are twisted in to shapes at a party.
Emerson: Her first baby-chino. (The same cafe, different child, two years ago.) 

Sometimes the life lessons we learn seem so profound that words alone can not do them justice. Indeed, the words we do find to use are so full of meaning, so weighty, that trying to relay the full extent of their worth seems impossible. Speaking or writing them makes them seem so flimsy and simple. So it is that I wish I could describe to you the realisation I had this week. I cannot change anyone else, only myself. I feel I could talk at great length about this. I could try to do the context justice. Write down the series of events that lead to my revelation  But better still, I believe that when, or if, you have found yourself in a similar situation where these words have strong meaning for you, then you will feel an understanding of exactly what I wish I say. Like sharing an experience with someone, that you can't quite put in to words. You can only catch the other persons eye and nod to confirm that you felt it to. There seem to be many such experiences in parenting.


Two of my favourites from last week - flour flinging and a little more mischief. 
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...