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“This Is Not an Ordinary Day”
Child remarks on special day with family as she drifts off to sleep
Yesterday, was, in fact, a fairly ordinary day, when measured against all the many days that I have lived. Gymnastics—check. Playground—check. Family time—check. Car nap—well, okay, some of it was unusual, but this falls into the category of Days We Have Known.
But for Kina, it was special. Her mother was back in town, she was able to visit the Japanese grocery in Industry City. While there, she was able to spend time with her whole New-York-based family, including her tiny cousin Otis. She did a flip. She took a nap.
I think back to when I was small, sometimes, and marvel at the myriad little sacraments that made up my otherwise normal life. Talking to robins in the trees, libraries with carpeted conversation pits, spaghetti and meatballs. Everything that was happening for me, in my life, was a secret joy. Secret, in that only I could feel and see and hear it for the first time—the robins, the soft carpet, the impossibly deep snow.
It’s impossible ever for me to know what it feels like for Kina to be alive, though she sometimes tells us about it; she periodically tells us poignant and detailed stories about moments in her life that we remember but never truly noticed, a reminder of how much a human being can freeze in time and memory, and why it’s so important for me to be present with Kina as much as I can.
I do not want to miss out, and I do not want to get it wrong.
What it feels like to be alive, and how extraordinary that can be.
“Let’s do some abstract art, today, Mommy,” said the publisher about today’s Parade. A real throwback.