Some things that the kids do mean something.  Sometimes they don’t. 

And sometimes I just don’t know.  I don’t know if Zion meant what I read into his art but at the end of the day, I guess I don’t really need to know.

And I don’t know exactly what this means but it might mean something…

Before Marisa died, whenever I would read books with the kids, I would do voices.  I do a number of different ethnic voices that the kids think are hilarious.  They would pick before the book what voice they would want to hear.

Then Marisa died.

We read books that night.  I thought I would try some voices to see if I could lighten things up a bit.

Jacoba and Zion both said no.  They was adamant that there would be no voices that night. 

just your regular self” Jacoba said.

I thought to myself, my ‘regular self’ has died.

So we read the books.  With no voices. 

Since then I would periodically ask if asked if anyone wanted to hear any voices.  No was always the answer.

Until last week.

We sat down to read, and Jacoba said she wanted a voice, “the scottish one please“.

Aye lassie, aye.

MdH

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