Article voiceover
Sometimes, holding a dish towel, I feel the urge to drape it over my shoulder then drape my baby boy over the towel, and pat his back while singing to him, But he's twenty-one now, taller than me, sings beautifully, and I can't lift him that high anymore.
I think creative people retain memories better than others. With us, we take it all in. With our eyes. With our ears. With our heart. Sometimes, the memories are bitter sweet, but I treasure them each and every one.
You have touched a mother's heart here, Mr. Alexie. My son, at 59, is still my baby. How I would love to cradle him, but he will, I fear, soon be cradling me. Any one got a Kleenex? Thank you for a lovely start to my week.