“Well, that’s a different question,” I said. “Perhaps when you are less TIRED we can try again.” I gently pulled him towards me, trying to reduce the distance between us, both literally and figuratively. It felt like he was looking at things on a different SCALE, mired in the details and too narrow a focus: the now felt eternal. I recognize this moment. It’s a piece of the dance we do in our relationship – one of us focused narrowly, worried about where to put a foot, and the other zoomed out to SPACE, where the whole, its patterns and arc can be viewed. Thankfully, we take turns in this dance. Its tempos and rhythms are constantly changing, and our willingness to see the wonder and magic of the process is what has kept us together.

Georg’ann

Embarking from a creepy hotel in Calmut, heading north to Chicago, I’m somewhat distracted by the lion mane girl in the backseat who is enthusiastic about all things, and happy to notice another wind turbine even as our view is increasingly urban. We are heading directly to the Lincoln Park Zoo, and I am anticipating the first sight of the skyline -so excited for her reaction. She has never seen a city. We SPEAK of little things, like how she thinks the folded washcloth tucked into the hand towel in the hotel looked like french fries and the how the toothpaste I got was too spicy.

Well prepared for our fist vacation together, we each brought a SPARE pair of glasses and a deck of cards to play if we need a little rest. She pulled them out yesterday, fidgeting, and made up a story about the Jack of SPADES as we were driving. Like me as a child, her imagination is a constant companion. She observes the world around, attuned to detail. Making up stories, so much curiosity. Her memories, questions, and comments, at times, catch me off guard.

Just before the anticipated skyline comes into view she says, “I have a poem about SPACE but I’m shy to share it.”

Heather