Monday, December 11, 2017

Entire Life With Her





That 6:15AM run to the gym didn’t happen this morning. Had every intention of doing it, but got distracted.  And this lead me deeper down the pursuit of my early morning distraction until the time I was supposed to depart for the gym by had long passed and the point by which I ought to return all sweaty by was upon me. With that I went upstairs and got everyone else up and resumed the day’s regular rhythm, vowing to make sure I got there tomorrow. 

My daughter messed up Saturday night.  It reminded me rather precisely of my own sixteen-year-old mess-ups.  We explained the many reasons why her behavior was wrong.  Now thirty-six hours later she’s in a funk.  My talking with her doesn’t seem to be doing any good. 



Whatever our problems they pale next to the story I just read of Meena Gul, the daughter of Shirin Gul.  The photo of the younger Ms. Gul reminded me of the pudgy, pout my older one used to sport, when she was younger.  I took the story upstairs to her room to read it to her, uninvited.  I didn't say anything about why I was reading this story but I think it was obvious enough.  Get over yourself. 

Shirin Gul had been sentenced to life in prison in Afghanistan.  She was pregnant at the time of incarceration and gave birth to a daughter who has grown up her entire life with her mother in prison.  The poor girl’s sad face seemed to speak to the most resounding unfairness imaginable. How could someone be born into prison?


Lamb tonight, with a sesame sauce.  It’s musky and fatty and the taste remains in my mouth.  Dishes that never quite made it to the sink needed to be removed.  It’s later now.  If I don’t head up soon I’ll miss the evening’s chance to read to the girls.  I often duck in after ten and find the older one, fast asleep.  I will go have a look, as it’s now 9:58PM.  Someone had asked me to call them at 11:00PM tonight but I don’t think that’s going to happen.



Monday 12/04/17


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