"We all struggle," I say to the air around me and now I need to say it to a kid.
Then, "I'm so mad at myself."
"Why in the world would you be mad at yourself?"
"Because my guitar. I had it ready by the door and really Daddy was in such a rush and it's not his fault because it's my responsibility and I'm gonna double practice this week. I'll get caught up."
"Oh my gosh, that's not serious at all. Why would you be mad at yourself?"
Insert a photo of the most awesome crazy I've never seen that face before here. May we never replicate it. May we always have that face between us. It was frozen face until the moment you finally uttered, whispered, stammered, I feel bad for making you feel this way.
"I don't understand what you're saying."
"I'm saying that you shouldn't be mad at yourself."
Another frozen face. So unique. So I need to respect who you say you are.
"You have a guitar. It is your's and it is past time for me to let that be. You can play when you want to or not play it ever again and that's okay with me. You cried the last time we practiced together and I should never make you cry again. You should never have to learn a song from a video you don't understand. Do your thing, young lady. Plus, we have to go order our paint and maybe we'll have a picnic on the living room floor. So much has happened since you've been gone. What did you do?"
"I went to the aquarium. Someone stole my Galaxy."
Today I am grateful to get something out of the way so I could listen.
(this has not been my best work to date. this is shame.)