Sick Day

<originally written and never published in winter 2011>

Quin & Anja -

Neither of you are feeling very well today. Most of my day has been spent rocking, rubbing backs, warming heat packs, and persuading you to drink water. It's a cold winter day and I've found myself rocking to the rhythm of the swaying trees outside your window, Anja, as I sat surrounded by Legos and other 4-year old accouterments, rocking Quin to sleep.

As I sat, lulling, I thought ahead to when you might be reading this and decided I will wait until you each have your own children. After the first few posts, I realized I have been holding back quite a lot. Quite a lot that I still might hold back but some of which I want you to know. For instance, that, as I said in my last post, I moved out of my mother's apartment when I was 19.

I look at the people in our life, like Francisca, who is almost 19, your one and only non-family babysitter and realize how young I was when I got my first apartment on 5th Avenue, by myself, in downtown Seattle. I didn't then but, in retrospect, realize how vulnerable I was, what a target I was. The world is a dangerous place for anyone, but, particularly to young women who still have a blind faith that everyone is basically good, like I did.

Quin, you may encounter obstacles as a young man that I might be able to offer insight on, however, I know that only your father will ever be able to truly understand at the core what the boyhood experience brings. You are lucky to have such a great man to guide you in this way. If I could offer you any advice I think he would want you to know it would be to be aware of your ambitious nature and follow your strengths. Your father has a drive in him that I see in you. It will carry you far in life and I hope that you will always be aware that you have this.

Anja, we women suffer the most from what society brings. I fear now what it will bring when you are of an age to start noticing. I am not a religious woman but I am spiritual and slightly superstitious, as I am sure you have found by the time you get to reading this. I believe that I had an energy about me when I found myself living alone in a big city that protected me from harm. Perhaps, it was The Wisdom. Funny how I find it appropriate to capitalize that. It's never been talked about in depth in our family, your maternal grandmother's family, but it is there. I am shocked to see these words as I write them.

I knew you had The Wisdom before you were born. I could feel it coursing through me and into you. I wrote you letters while you were in my womb. I need to find them. Basically put, The Wisdom, in my understanding, is an innate sense of truth and intuition that is very rare. At a young age, I knew that I had the ability to read into people's emotions and anticipate the results of certain situations. It can be a useful social skill but also one that brings heartache. Use it wisely.