I’m sitting at my daughter’s desk in New Orleans. She is on a work trip, and I’ve gotten her son Thomas to school. He’s in kindergarten. Our morning went so smoothly that I am questioning myself. I have rechecked her list, and we did everything. Nevertheless I’m worried.
Thomas has been struggling lately. The classroom environment overwhelms him, and he has meltdowns. My daughter is doing all the things. I am really proud of the way she is taking charge of the situation and working hard toward a solution. As an educator, though, I wish I could be a fly on the wall in his classroom to see the whole picture. As a grandparent, all I want in the world is for him to be happy.
At my daughter’s desk this morning, I read Kim Johnson’s SOL post about falling in love with ordinary things. Thanks, Kim, for the nudge to write a poem inspired by Georgia Heard’s February newsletter.
I’m sitting at my daughter’s work desk
falling in love with the winter slant
of sunlight
and the small pink framed photo of her
as a wild child, holding Pongo, the rat terrier.Her smile is wide and open,
blonde hair flustered by the wind.
Is there a stain of chocolate on her chin?Her wide smile,
that joie de vivre, is living
in her six-year old son today.Margaret Simon, draft
Reflections on the Teche 