There she is again. Curly-haired moppet, she looks to be near five. High up now, atop a slide, and in her arms she cradles a kitten.
Years have passed and the smile is gone. Only the curls remain, as she sits in a swing, surrounded by her parents and brother. Though positioned in a group she seems to be apart.
An older teen now, she sits on a diving board, back to back with her mother. Their shoulders touch – but not their hearts.
All grown now – you seeing her holding a baby – her firstborn.
More to come – second son – the middle child. (Odd – he too has the immense, all-seeing eyes.)
Third son – the baby – bigger, fatter, gurgling happily.
She must be older now – the babies have grown.
Pictures mark the moments in their lives. Caps and gowns, tuxes and wedding dresses, awards held high – even an Emmy.
And now it’s back to the once curly-headed moppet – except now her hair is long and pulled back into a bun. No kitten cradled in her arms. Now it’s a newborn, swaddled and sleeping. The long-ago babies are grown and having babies themselves.
Those babies begin the same cycle. Caps and gowns and she’s standing nearby, hair streaked gray, face lined by time, but the eyes still dark and wondering and taking it all in. Time moves ahead and on –
By Jane Hogg