singing and swinging:one day we’ll touch the heavens
A giggle of delight escaped her, she flung her brown hair back and looked up to see my reaction. Her eyes glittered and a smile stretched across her face.
We were playing school with felt giraffes and stuffed owls.
on the cold floor in the yellow room
a small pocketed quilt lay out at our feet
she impressed me with her knowledge of math and division, she must have learned from mum.
mum was teaching her now
soft voice flowing down the hall, mixed with steam and the smell of dove soap
mum was praising him, the steady stream of water making harmony with her melody, humbly lifting her voice to the heavens.
even in this storm of lightning bolt decisions and thunder clouds of blurred vision
my mother praised him, she thanked him
she let him now she was ‘his daughter.’
I remember this lesson as we swung on swings in the afternoon sun
giggling the same delighted giggle
this time laughing at brother with long legs twisted in a child’s toy bouncing back and forth
gangly and awkward
I remember how sister had shown us what she had learned moments before we left our house
In those moments she had brought us back to the father
we joined in a circle in the kitchen and prayed,
prayed for guidance
prayed for the family
i thought on this,
I pointed my toes to the heavens
and felt mums song swishing around my moccasins