Sunday

Today, we acknowledge but are doing nothing special for, our 29th wedding aniversary! David and I as so fortunate. I cannot put into words (not that that ever stops me writing) the joy and fulfillment of our love and companionship. Neither of us is perfect, but I cannot imagine a more perfect soul and body to travel through this reality. We have grown and changed so much since we met 35 years ago -- EEEgads, 35 years! I still want him to be the first person I see in the morning and the last person I see at night. I still call him everyday at work to see how he is doing. I still want to talk about everything with him even though he still rolls his eyes sometimes. I would have no objection to another 29 years together!

Two thoughts right now before I dig into some PTO work:

The talk today in church was by a woman who teaching compassionate communication -- an utterly intriguing subject leaving me with the mere taste from a cup I would like to drink deeply of. In the middle of her explanation/stories, she used the phrase "Use your words!" It is a phrase that I remember using with Cheshire when she was first getting a hold of language, and now, it is a phrase that we use with Julia whose first impulse is to strike out physically.

She is getting so much better with that. Initially, I doubted the efficacy of social story books -- how could reading "Hands are not for Hitting" actually make a child stop hitting. But it is working. Really. Julia listens, she repeats the story lines, and it seems to go inside of her.

Last night, we read a social story book about being afraid. Julia was not too crazy about this one when it came home -- maybe it was too close to the untouchable core of her. There is also a page in which a little girl is bringing flowers to a grandparent who is clearly ill and in the hospital. Julia started talking about her Babja who died and who made Julia sad. We took times for hugs and talking and Julia, after beating around the bush for awhile, said that she was scared that Mommy and Daddy would die like Babja. I told her that I intended to be a very old lady before I died and that I had to take care of her for a long, long time. Then she changed the subject and asked if my hands were going to get as old as Babja's -- Julia is fascinated with old people's hands. I laughed at her and told her that they probably would but that old hands can love her, can make her noodles and rice, and can tell her lots of stories.

Then, we finished the story.

More later.