Currently This

My husband and I were throwing out some old furniture the other day and I found a roll of film I hadn't developed. I took it to the photo shop, hoping, because when you find it like that you never know how old it is or what shape the pics will turn out to be in, but I lucked out some. The film was from December 1989. My oldest girl was two and a half, her sister just one and I was three months pregnant with their brother. The pics were in pretty bad shape and these are the best they could do:





That first is the middle girl with a Rocking Pooh Bear they just loved (somewhere there is a pic of oldest girl asleep under Rocking Dumbo) and the other is the oldest with a piano, I think. You may not be able to see it in these pics, but they were glorious. They were glorious, glowing little Goddettes and they were so happy.

I looked a while at the pic of the older girl, seeing how small and helpless she looked with her little tiny toes peeking out from under her nightgown and I was filled with such a bloody fierce wish to be able to go back. To go back and undo every hurt, every slight, every bad moment. I think - no I know that I would kill for that chance, the chance to do it all better. To pick that little girl up and hold her and never put her down and never yell at her and make her eat her veggies.

I want to hold her in my arms, again. I want to hold her after a bath and run my fingers through her hair as I blow it dry and pat her back while she fell asleep in my arms and I would *never* put her down and I would slice open anyone who tried to take her from me or reject her or be mean to her.