when i saw this

little lady standing

in for my baby.

i’ve said it before,

and i’ll likely say

it everyday for

the rest of my life…

“where did my baby go?”

when did

this baby of

mine, become a

little girl?

it must have

happened when we

were out having fun.

that my favorite

photos of us,

always seem to

include balloons?

(see?)

watching you explore

your world,

wherever in the

world we happen to be.

but i was

a little scared

when you climbed

this ladder.

it seems that

you have no

fear, which is

something i really love

about you.

but please be

careful, because i

don’t need any more

gray hair.

but see your

mom

in this photo.

we used to

come to this place,

and walk

down this same street,

and talk about

a future with you,

before you were you,

and watch similar

clouds roll

over us.

and last year i

was here with you,

but you couldn’t walk,

and you had no

words for the

things you loved

and hated.

and now…

you walk these

streets with me,

picking up rocks,

throwing them as

far as you can,

yelling “birdie”

and “fock”

(which i think is frog, but sounds more like “fuck”),

and yelling for

any person who may

be too far

ahead or behind

you on this road.

and i think about

a future with you,

a future that

will be nothing

short of perfect,

despite the imperfect start.

so keep running,

throwing, and kinda

swearing, ’cause

it makes me happy.

i love it when

you do things

like this.

i mean, a few

years ago i would

have thought,

“damn…that kid is getting crumbs all over my bed.”

but now…

now i just

look at you

and smile,

thinking about

how you are the

one who

can make the

shittiest day ever

disappear in seconds.

not sure

where i’d

be without you,

but i know

i wouldn’t be smiling.

you’ve got to

start earning your

keep, kid.

plus you’re never

gonna see this white

stuff in los angeles,

so enjoy it while

you can.

(where did your right hand go?)

the taj mahal was

her playground.

and i couldn’t

have been more thrilled

to see the smile

on her face,

as she ran

around, screaming

for joy.

we

walked here,

in the same place

you now stand,

through a uttar pradeshian summer,

the two of

us,

hand-in-hand until

we could no longer.

still we walked

near one another,

separated by it,

yet kept close

because of it.

we learned about this

place, hearing how it

and a lack of water

drove them

from here.

we both understood

then, why otherwise

rational human beings

would leave behind

years of hard work and

forgo such beauty;

it was the same

reason we let go

of one another.

the wind

blowing in from

the desert,

bringing with it

that heat…

heat that feels

like a

hair dryer blowing in

your face while

you stand in

a sauna.

but today,

we, you and me,

we stand here.

summer is

over, and that heat,

that heat

is gone.

but i can still

feel it,

and it is

something i’ll revel

in until i can

no longer feel.

and you.

you feel her.

i’m sure of it,

because i can

see her in

you.

the smile on

your face,

the way you

hold my hand,

and the way you

let it go…

so walk where

we walked,

stand where

she stood

and together,

we will feel

something.