The women in Debby’s clan write like angels. What a sweet account of baby-missing. I especially liked “Parts of who I was returned, bit by bit, to greet the parts of who I had become.”
I was the principal child-tester in my clan, but when my son was around three I had to take a month-long trip to India to research a novel. Toward the end of it I attended a performance of the Ramayana and when, at one point, the baby Rama ran into his father’s arms, I burst into tears. So I know whereof you speak, but you speak it better than I.
The women in Debby’s clan write like angels. What a sweet account of baby-missing. I especially liked “Parts of who I was returned, bit by bit, to greet the parts of who I had become.”
I was the principal child-tester in my clan, but when my son was around three I had to take a month-long trip to India to research a novel. Toward the end of it I attended a performance of the Ramayana and when, at one point, the baby Rama ran into his father’s arms, I burst into tears. So I know whereof you speak, but you speak it better than I.
Thank you, Andy. And based on this comment, you speak of it very well!
I’m teary eyed.