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| Syd and me when she was about 13. Photo credit: Jon Aronin |
How did you get so capable, because when you were two, you needed me for everything?
How could you have needed me for everything, then barged ahead anyway, my pigheaded angel-face, convinced that you needed me for nothing?
And how did you get so strong, my fairy warrior princess, when there was a time that you worried about everything?
Remember that day on the bed? You said you were so afraid to die. I tried to think what could have made you that anxious. Then, you spoke of stresses from school, your parents' divorce, and unreliable friends. You cried about missing your grandma, leaving your childhood, losing your home, and growing old.
No wonder you were frightened; you'd worried yourself full circle to confront your own mortality. And we went around and around and around, I trying to comfort you and you still not comforted.
Then I, a discontented agnostic, struggling to believe, said the last thing I could think of that might help, that after I died, I would watch over you, and that when you died, I would watch then, too, and fly down from Heaven just in time to catch your soul, that I would hold it tight against me and pilot it to Heaven.
Then I, a discontented agnostic, struggling to believe, said the last thing I could think of that might help, that after I died, I would watch over you, and that when you died, I would watch then, too, and fly down from Heaven just in time to catch your soul, that I would hold it tight against me and pilot it to Heaven.
So far, my help hadn't helped, so I braced for your scoff.
But you said, "You promise?"
And I said, "I promise."
