Shepherd
08-28-2013, 05:06 AM
"Would you call the tooth fairy for me?" River asked yesterday as we sat near Mt. Tam's summit. "I want to both keep my chipped tooth and get a present. Perhaps a toy racing car. Could you help me arrange that?" I assure him that I would do my best.
I open my little notebook, like the one that he had drawn in half his lifetime ago. I show him Nyliah's art--three hearts, she and her Mom, clouds above, grass below, on one page. Across the next two pages are her Mom's name, Richelle, and her name. Above them is the book title "The Parent Trap," whatever that might mean.
Once again, as River did when he was three-years-old, he takes a pen and begins to draw in my booklet, leaving his markings. I still have those earlier impressions he made upon me and in my booklet. River assures me that he is now "five and a half." He and his dad speak in French, which I do not understand. So I speak in Spanish, as we used to, in River's "old days," half his life ago.
This time, starting on the left side of the booklet, with Nyliah's art fresh in his mind, River draws himself and his "papa," the word he most often says during our time together on Mt. Tam, grass beneath and sun above. They are playing soccer, as this French duo often do--big fingers. On the other side, he draws two castles, with windows and two guards with swords and smiles. The sun remains above, as well as his name on both sides of the booklet.
I am struck by how the images of this young girl and young boy differ, yet both so deeply loving.
We leave the castle to walk further up the mountain. "Three leaves, let it be," River says, riding his "horse," which later becomes a "lance," as we head up the hill. He had seen the forest guardian--poison oak. I marvel at how wise he already is and how active his imagination is. We had earlier looked at photos in a book with a title something like "Unusual Friendships." It was by a National Geographic photographer displaying photos and brief stories of animals who usually do not connect--predator/prey, big/small. I sometimes find myself in such "unusual friendships," not knowing why or understanding what I or we are supposed to do together.
As I leave, Laurent hugs and River kisses me. Our closeness is followed by the pending distance, as I drive back to school for work and dinner, then return home, so alone. I remember Nyliah offering her small hand to me as we walked across the street outside Screaming Mimi's Ice Cream in Sebastopol, uniting the three of us.
Friendships rise and fall. I wonder if I will ever seen them, and Carolina, his Filipina mother, again. Or Richelle and Nyliah. Or even meet her boys. Life is so passing and so fragile, which is how I feel these days. Unless tended, things fall apart. People do not follow through. They get busy with other things and details, don't show up, forget to call. Friendships degenerate into email-only ways of communicating. Unless...
I hope to see Laurent and River tomorrow afternoon at the Hessel Grange, where we can go for a donkey ride, eat, drink some wine, meet interesting people, and buy fresh food. Laurent said they might make it. I also missed Sandra and Miles and their boys Isaac and Ian, who had planned to join us on Mt. Tam. I hope that Isaac is feeling better, and that they might make it to the Grange tomorrow, so I am including them in this email communication. I hope that Astika and his two young boys might also come, so please forward this to him, since I do not have his email. The 5 of them had so much fun at the Grange the last time, playing with peacock feathers, as if they were swords, in the gazebo. Perhaps Thomas and Jina might also come, with Ely, whom Nyliah met her at the farm. Winnie plans to be there.
Shepherd (Santiago)
I open my little notebook, like the one that he had drawn in half his lifetime ago. I show him Nyliah's art--three hearts, she and her Mom, clouds above, grass below, on one page. Across the next two pages are her Mom's name, Richelle, and her name. Above them is the book title "The Parent Trap," whatever that might mean.
Once again, as River did when he was three-years-old, he takes a pen and begins to draw in my booklet, leaving his markings. I still have those earlier impressions he made upon me and in my booklet. River assures me that he is now "five and a half." He and his dad speak in French, which I do not understand. So I speak in Spanish, as we used to, in River's "old days," half his life ago.
This time, starting on the left side of the booklet, with Nyliah's art fresh in his mind, River draws himself and his "papa," the word he most often says during our time together on Mt. Tam, grass beneath and sun above. They are playing soccer, as this French duo often do--big fingers. On the other side, he draws two castles, with windows and two guards with swords and smiles. The sun remains above, as well as his name on both sides of the booklet.
I am struck by how the images of this young girl and young boy differ, yet both so deeply loving.
We leave the castle to walk further up the mountain. "Three leaves, let it be," River says, riding his "horse," which later becomes a "lance," as we head up the hill. He had seen the forest guardian--poison oak. I marvel at how wise he already is and how active his imagination is. We had earlier looked at photos in a book with a title something like "Unusual Friendships." It was by a National Geographic photographer displaying photos and brief stories of animals who usually do not connect--predator/prey, big/small. I sometimes find myself in such "unusual friendships," not knowing why or understanding what I or we are supposed to do together.
As I leave, Laurent hugs and River kisses me. Our closeness is followed by the pending distance, as I drive back to school for work and dinner, then return home, so alone. I remember Nyliah offering her small hand to me as we walked across the street outside Screaming Mimi's Ice Cream in Sebastopol, uniting the three of us.
Friendships rise and fall. I wonder if I will ever seen them, and Carolina, his Filipina mother, again. Or Richelle and Nyliah. Or even meet her boys. Life is so passing and so fragile, which is how I feel these days. Unless tended, things fall apart. People do not follow through. They get busy with other things and details, don't show up, forget to call. Friendships degenerate into email-only ways of communicating. Unless...
I hope to see Laurent and River tomorrow afternoon at the Hessel Grange, where we can go for a donkey ride, eat, drink some wine, meet interesting people, and buy fresh food. Laurent said they might make it. I also missed Sandra and Miles and their boys Isaac and Ian, who had planned to join us on Mt. Tam. I hope that Isaac is feeling better, and that they might make it to the Grange tomorrow, so I am including them in this email communication. I hope that Astika and his two young boys might also come, so please forward this to him, since I do not have his email. The 5 of them had so much fun at the Grange the last time, playing with peacock feathers, as if they were swords, in the gazebo. Perhaps Thomas and Jina might also come, with Ely, whom Nyliah met her at the farm. Winnie plans to be there.
Shepherd (Santiago)