My reflection walked through the door at the ripe age of almost seven and a half- she runs into greet me, but this time we don’t embrace right away because her senses are sensing me out-

Am I safe here?

And I sit with a smile, and a “Hey girl, hey, how ya doin'”

And she doesn’t answer but reflects back that question in a different way… “What are you doing?”

The answer is abstract, “I’ve been working on things- would you like to see what I am doing, working on?”

A gentleness sets in with the curious “yes.”

So I show her how hard it is to get the fur right, on Capricious the cat who is complex. I show her where my struggles exist properly portraying the nose.

I ask if she wants to see the one sketch book I know is meant for her because I was able to cut off criticism and ownership, to allow her to draw on the first page

Oh, help me- this is a book not a quarter finished and it is the most esoteric of my papers- mostly I bleed on the pages, metaphorically as I loose those last remaining eggs captured in my abdomen that I kept from procreating

She sees familiarity, even expressions of creative will when it comes to honoring the Nana and Papa-

Her hand was in that book- my hands will keep creating when the time suits- and someday, it’s for her too look back on in a remembering of care, creativity- unconventional and unique- just like her

I see this child has anger she doesn’t know how to express or articulate

I was there once, twice, three times two and again in spurts

I recognize those hurts spoken in another language, again and again- reminicent

She isn’t alone, it isn’t “bad” to be angry- it’s a life struggle to learn to tame it, know it, control it, be with it and breathe it out

So she wanted to control the wind- and I told her I already know how, and bonus- I know how to talk to clouds

So I ask, is today a day to build clouds or bust them?

Build them she says- I say that means the storm is coming in- and she isn’t afraid

Unknowing to her in the last days Rain and I have been talking about regulation of expression because Rain is just pain expressed, especially when the third wheel to lightening and thunder

So we covered the sun with clouds and watched the sky darken- and then we tossed the ball back and forth- acknowledging that too much force, misdirected can cause pain- so awareness has it’s gains

We take a lap when we are angry, we beat our fist into the leather mit, meant to capture the ball- we find a way to express without purposeful abraision-

Peace creeps in, but it needs patience and work- but the seed is there and I see how connection has many outlets- not all are my favorite, but I am willing to compromise so that she can get what she needs at a time she feels so unseen

I see her, and she sees me