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.

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.

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.

so the other night

we to dinner at

your mom’s favorite

restaurant in bangalore.

a fancy vietnamese

place at an

even fancier hotel.

she

used to hang

out here

while she waited

for me to

finish my work day.

it was nice

to walk in

that night, and

see another reminder

of her…

her favorite flowers.

they were the

flowers she chose

for our wedding.

i can still

smell them

when i think

of that day.

and she used to

buy them from the

farmer’s market every week,

and bring them

home to make our

place look less

like a record store

and more like

a place someone

called home.

she loved the way

they looked,

and especially the

way they smelled.

and so did i.

funny thing is…

i am so damn

allergic to those flowers.

i dealt with

them, ’cause i knew

how much

she

loved them.

but believe me,

i complained about

them every chance

i got.

up you go,

toward heights

unimagined 19 months ago.

you and me

both, kid.

before work/daycare – thursday, sept. 24th, 2009.