It doesn't matter if you can't feel it
This morning, in the early hours of the morning - I set my daughter's alarm for her to get up but she didn't wake and she was late to school.
While we were driving to school I discovered that my prodigal daughter had a social studies assignment that was deadlined for the day before - a letter to her Senator about conditions in Africa. So I handed her my smartphone and said "Go ahead and login to our mailserver and write the email."
A few frustrated moments were spent battling the interface before she realized that someone - a person who had designed the phone - had decided that they will try to force everyone to search for everything instead of just type it in.
The lightbulb went off.
We talked a bit more as we drove in. Yesterday she had made fun of the classics - how they sometimes describe single, simple moments that could so easily otherwise be described. Crossing the street. I could see her point of view. It might seem absurd to look down at the pavement, as you're crossing the street - to see the pattern in the asphalt. Perhaps a dark red brown spot on the road. Good for a few laughs.
I remembered one day when I crossed the street a while ago and it made me cry. The story was about a kitten my daughter barely and quietly remembers - and the morning the little cat ran across the street without thinking and a gold Taurus hit her. I remembered how Tabitha's black and white body immediately after impact - was spinning in the air like a marionette with the strings strangely cut leaping and clawing the air frantically in circles before finally landing in the bush. She left only a little dark red spot where her blood splattered on the road and beneath - the dark canopy of the bush. I remembered the scent of evergreen and pine and the sound of her breath rasping beneath her clenched teeth. My daughter was very young.
Just simple moments perhaps but sometimes simple moments can hold meaning.
I was sorry that she was late to school but for this once, perhaps - maybe it was better to slow down and think of the moment. And then I saw my little girl going off to school in her uniform - walking to class.
I decided I'd better pull over after I dropped her off and finally fix that weird squeak noise in the back seat. The one that goes up my fucking +spinal column+.
Lamb ended up with her new windshield this morning. And a new speedo. If she goes into gear properly tomorrow I'll put on an air mass meter and we'll be good to go.