She plays outside with him whatever the weather, sometimes in yesterday's hair, sometimes in shiny, fancy regalia. When the money is short, she buys him the handful of foods he will eat and forages for herself. She does all this because he is more than other people understand to her. He is the other half of her soul. He showed up to take care of her just in time. Sometimes he plays nearby and she rakes the shoreline, washes the clothes, mops the kitchen. But he is never far from her thoughts. They ride scooters. They draw pictures on the sidewalk. She knows how to make him laugh like no one else. She wrestles him sleepy. She makes him Poptarts (the tops only) and sees him to school. She celebrates hooky days when she senses the changing weather is frazzling his nerves. She doesn't care anymore if you understand them. She has given up on most of us ever getting it. They get each other. They deserve each other. Figure it out if you can. They don't have time to explain. Too many adventures await.
Hello, friends. I hope you’re well.
Later. Love.