measuring up

November 19, 2013 § 3 Comments

My son has been chasing my shadow, eagerly aligning his shoulders with my own in a race to grow into an expectation of stature.  Amused by his enthusiasm, I measured myself against the kitchen door frame long graffitied with names and dates; allowing each child to gauge themselves against my name. Today, as my son shuffled past me, I knew even before my husband drew a new line that my son’s name would fill the space beside my own. In much the same way I marveled at his first steps I now found myself disoriented by the evidence of time, grateful for the space between his name and his father’s and the smaller shadow of my daughter’s form.

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§ 3 Responses to measuring up

  • My marking post was a corner of a wall that separated the undeveloped section from the basement from the developed part. When the time came to place a new door at that spot I found myself unable to cover it over. Too many memories. Instead I got a piece of straight pine, tacked it to that spot and carefully copied the benchmarks over to the plank. Four sets of marks; four lives now stepping out over the threshold of adulthood and a father now lingering by that doorway, watching hopefully, one hand resting on the scented pine.

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