I feel his cold hand on my arm and I let him get in.

Light creeping in. 6:42am. He tells me that they’re eating bagels. Oh yeah, I had forgotten about those. What a sweet gift to myself.

Cleaning day’s not so bad when 4 other people actually chip in.

I take the book and some water to the hammock. The middle of the yard is filled with sun. The material in the book is light, boring, surprisingly simple. There’s nothing wrong with simple. It’s just that I was expecting to learn something new.

She asks me what to do with the persimmons. We discuss tarts and pies. I suggest a sweet potato pie, apple hand pies, that chocolate cake that she likes to make. I encourage her to just stay bored. Nothing wrong with being bored, I say, and then close my eyes again and turn my left cheek to the sun.

Snuggle time. How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Home Alone.

The wave of emotion is actually not about this. I mean, it is but it isn’t.

Requests for cell phones for Christmas. No one makes a moving argument.

They rewatch the first episodes of The Mandalorian while I take my bath. I let the bathwater get cold, read through more poems, slow down to watch the language move through the pages.

Ice cream.