Advice from an Older Me to My Six Year-old Self

I traveled in time to my sixth birthday party. I spoke with my younger self. “Psst. It’s hard to wait when you’re six.”

“Yeah, it’s not fair. It’s my birthday. I’m last in line for all the games. My aunt said I should get to go first, but Dad won’t listen to anyone.

“Relax. Life is waiting in lines. You’ll learn to notice what’s important. You’ll see; that’s your superpower.”

“I’m mad and I’m sad.”

“You’ll remember the party that way. But learning to wait is valuable, even when you think waiting isn’t worth it. Also, Dad’s not always right.”

In Retreat

Lily had a cup of coffee and a bowl of granola after an hour of yoga. The beach was a ten minute walk away. She didn’t gag at the disagreeable smell of rotting algae. She reveled in it. The sight of plovers hopping along, their beaks poking the wet sand to find breakfast, delighted her. The sunrise shone behind them.

She was beginning to enjoy the solitary days, the solo walks, the freedom to set her own schedule. A month after her partner passed, she had found a natural habitat where death and life mingled and new mixed with old.

After the Funeral

Sven was filled with Guinness and peanuts. Distracted by a roadside fruit stand, he ran a stop light.

An ordinary goat in a neon vest and hard hat was selling a variety of grapes: blue concords, tiny green Champagnes and four other kinds.

“I’ll take a pound of the Muscat,” Sven said through his open window.

The goat ambled over, leaned on the roof and stared. “You’ve had enough.”

But Sven wanted grapes more than he could say. “They’re for my wife.”

There were no grapes. There was no wife. Sven began to weep for grapes and so much more.

A Mother Knows

A beloved king lived in a modest bungalow on the edge of the forest. His wife was the kindest and most beautiful of all women. Together they ruled the kingdom of Thryngia in peace and prosperity. If only they had a child to succeed them.

A charlatan heard of their plight. He found his way into their confidence and promised to bring to life the stillborn child they had buried scarcely weeks before. The charlatan’s cousin, a witch, transformed him into an infant and raised him from the child’s grave. The queen was not fooled. A mother knows her child.

Floating Island

The princess abided hiding away on an island. She kept hope alive for her people while her brother made his quest to free the kingdom from an evil wizard. Summer nights, crickets sang merrily and in the winter, deer fed on the hay she spread near her small cottage.

A loyal staff cared for the grounds and animals. They produced most things the household needed. The rest was magically delivered by an unmanned boat.

After he defeated the evil wizard, her brother arrived one moonlit night. They hugged, returned home to great acclaim , and the kingdom prospered under their rule.

A Hidden Prince

As long as the children were hidden, there was hope. A tiny woman, nursemaid to the princess, spirited the girl away when an evil wizard tricked his way into the palace and cast a spell on the land.

The nursemaid, a witch, had warned the queen. At her behest, the prince was sent to live in a neighboring kingdom. He grew up to be that mage king’s most valuable assistant. When the time came for him to find his sister and break the spell, the kindly king produced three magical items: a feather, a flute, and a cloak.

(To be continued)

Max

Max hopes that Kohnan might come back to live with us. He checks for him sometimes. He stands in front of Kohnan’s bed and sniffs the air. Kohnan’s toy hedgehog still smells like our little black friend. Sometimes, Max seems quite puzzled. Everything is the same; but Kohnan is missing.

Max comforts us by licking our feet in the morning while we eat breakfast. Perhaps it’s because the warm weather has made our skin salty. But I remember that for months after Max moved in, he licked our feet and our knees. This is the way dogs say, “It’s okay.”

Creating a Movement on Flag Day

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Signs from the 7×7 stand-in along El Camino from Palo Alto to Sunnyvale: “IKEA has better cabinets,” “No Kings, More Queens,” “…and to the republic for which it stands…,” “We can all hang together, or we shall surely hang separately- Ben Franklin.”

A beat up World War II jeep sporting a sign: “Fighting facism since 1943.” Honks and thumbs up galore from cars decked out with flags and signs declaring love and approval for the exuberant display of democracy filling the streets. This is what democracy looks like. To would be dictators and syncophants: the people have found a voice.

Making Up Stuff

There are house elves in my basement. My therapist says this is a delusion. But, she’s not here at night when they clatter around in the kitchen making noise. My partner rolls her eyes.

What makes them think the elves are not real? This is totally likely, aside from the fact that we have no basement and no decent place for an elf to set up housekeeping or raise a family. I ask you, how can dishes get done and meals cooked while I stay in bed dreaming? My therapist thinks it’s my partner and my partner agrees. They’re deluded.

Ode to Kohnan

His eyes were open and stayed that way
Aware and dignified, right up to the end.
A mensch, reserved, not prone to delay, 
Loyal to a fault, on that you can depend.

Saucy he was in the final hours,
Demanded kibble, a last meal at midnight.
Poured out love, licks, and reassurance.

Despite his weak body, his power
Did prolong the end, enough so that we might
Say woof, shed our tears, take one last dance.

He knew it was the end. We, quite sure, thought that he would rally.
He lay quiet, dignified, a friend and most trusted ally.

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