Nobody prepares you for this kind of thing

[dampscribbler]

My four year old asked me on the way to school this morning if I've ever lost anything that was important to me. 

Comments

[jelazakazone.livejournal.com]

LOL. It's such an innocent and yet deep and probing question. I love it when kids come up with these sorts of things.

[robertainnc.livejournal.com]

Wow. What did you answer?

[dampscribbler.livejournal.com]

Me: "Yes."

Her:"What?"

Me:"I don't want to talk about that right now."

Her:"Just...what!?"

Me: "Well, there were some things my Grandma gave me to give to you."

Her: "Like jewels?"

Me: "Yeah." (They were rings.)

Then we were close enough to school that the subject dropped, or changed, I don't even remember exactly.

[dampscribbler.livejournal.com]

On the heels of a disagreement and some sour feelings about her yelling at me, it kind of knocked me for a loop. I may post more details of the exchange later this week, it and some journaling I did this morning have got me thinking about some stuff....

[wordsrmylife.livejournal.com]

That is what I love about four-year-olds. They ask questions that make you start thinking on all sorts of levels.

[dampscribbler.livejournal.com]

Yeah, it was a little surprising. She's come up with several interesting things in the past week or so that cause us to suspect she's made another cognitive leap. It's getting more difficult to keep up! :)

Funny moment yesterday -- she picked up a rock and commented about how when she was "little" she used to love rocks (she did collect them for a while) and then she said "I'll keep this one, his name is Rocko."

[dampscribbler.livejournal.com]

Of course, later in the day, when I was awake, it occurred to me that it might be worth asking the same question of her. I'm fantastically slow in the mornings.

[robertainnc.livejournal.com]

One does wonder what prompted the question...there's a beautiful Elizabeth Bishop poem I read years ago that often comes back to me whenever I get too overly focused on loss.

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212

One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

[dampscribbler.livejournal.com]

Oh, thanks for that, Bert. I'm gonna put it on the wall above my monitor.