It does not amuse the child concerned but this is the one most like me.
That's not me.
It is not an obvious or outward thing; outwardly we are nothing alike. The girl has curves. When she was little I called her my little Brunhilda & said she should grace the prow of a Viking Longboat ~ then she discovered what I meant & that was the end of that!
When she was 6 she told people to shut up in Gaelic ~ because she could~ & watched Inspector Rex in German ~ because she could, which meant that at 9 she understood her singing teacher's questionable comments in German ~ & laughed. It comes of being the youngest in a verbally diverse house where she learnt to defend her opinions early & found wit a sauce to her liking.
I miss how she seriously considered purple & pink stilettos for her first grown up shoes. I was buying so, No. I miss the way her eyes would slid surreptitiously across an audience looking for us & the sight of her playing soccer with Issi tucked firmly under one arm. I miss the sound of scales late at night when everyone else was sleeping & the way she laughs when her voice cracks.
The woman is warm & wonderful but I miss the girl.
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