I grew up with dogs. I don't remember not having a dog. And we always had big dogs. This is Victoria. She had nine puppies one year. I think I thought I was one of the puppies because apparently my parents had a hard time keeping me out of the newspapered pen in the garage where we kept them all. There are pictures of diapered Jonatha just sitting whispering in "Tory's" ear, puppies straggling all around.
On Sunday, I came across some of these pictures. I'd never seen them before. I was the third child, and so, as the story usually goes, pictures are, at that point, old news. And who has time? Well these pix of my mother and me capture the very things that are happening in reverse right now. This is where it all started. I see these expressions daily. Tenderness, wonder, joy, love.
I wonder if they were trying to come up with a family version of Wyeth's "Christina's World" here!! And what am I holding? It almost looks like an I-pad.
And then, tucked away in an envelope. Christmas; and Mom's red shoes. It must have started that early on. (the movie "The Red Shoes" is mom's other sure touchstone. We watch it, at least bits and pieces, almost every day.) She relates on a very deep level with Vicki Page, and her tormented push and pull - career - love - career - love. She loves the drama, Lermontov's fierce certainty.
The light blue socks... well that's anybody's guess. But these are bits and pieces of her, little glimpses in.
After Victoria, there was Jonah, Molly, Rebecca, Dylan, Charlie....
And now...mom loves her new dog so much. "Are you sure he can stay here? Is there enough room for everybody?"
Yesterday she named him "little one" and then "brother" and then "son." And then, one gorgeous sky later, "L. L."