Blah, Blah, Blah

P1030491If you didn’t figure it out yet, I like to talk.  I love to tell stories, to capture the moment of meaning in a person’s life. I write, I talk, I live in language and the connections it creates.

I may have met my match.

This girl.  So bright.  So quick.  The sparkle in those eyes. Always there, watching, evaluating.  And oh, when she speaks.  She is not afraid of her truth.

Today was full of stories.  We decorated the tree.  I told Sunshine the history of each ornament.  This one I got the year Little Man first walked.  That one is for our trip to New York City when he was five.  Each family member has a name ornament.  They are marked in our history.

When we were finished, I told them both to go check their stockings.  An ornament for each of them.  Sunshine’s was a candy cane that had her name on it.  I tell her, we are gimene.  Family.  She belongs with us, marked in our history for forever.

Her face.  Yes?  Really?  Yes?

Yes.  Always.

She hung it front and center, proudly. P1030505

And the flood gates of words, they began to trickle, then pour out.  For five hours we sat together, looking at family photos.  Each page took thirty minutes or more to turn, because stories, thoughts, hopes, they were coming so quickly.

We talk with our whole bodies.  The sentences are simple, but the whole soul is invested.

And she holds nothing back.  She sees an ex-boyfriend of mine, points, tilts that pixie head and admonishes me: “Really?  This?”

When she does not know the words, she says, “And blah, blah, blah, you understand.”  Yes, I do.  We laugh easily and often.

We seek out understanding, two hungry souls feasting on the bounty of shared communion.

As she tires, she says, “You talk, I hear blah blah blah.  No more English.  I sleep.”

So I hug her tight.  “No more English.  Yellow blue…” I start.

“Yell-ow Blue Buuus.” she encourages.

“Ne.  Yellow blue TEBYA.”  My dear, sweet one.

Ja, she says.

And our life is being knit together, word by word.

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