She wants to know if I have written about her skates. The skates she has silently hoped for and pleaded for and been extra helpful around the house for from June until now. The skates she has fallen asleep with on her mind.
And in the moment I shake my head “no.” Because I’ve not written about skates or the sky. Or anything at all.
And yet, in her asking, I realize that she is relying on me to remember these days. To remember when she was ten and the only thing in the world she wanted was a pair of racing skates.
So I have picked up the “pen” again. To tell how when that special pair was fitted for her, her face grew tight from grinning. And how her ankles wobbled and bent and knocked her knees together, as she rolled first from the carpet to the wooden rink. And how Husband and I watched the wobbling and the wild arms and shared a weak smile. And how we knew…knew the helmet would come in handy.