Brigham's two favorite phrases are active: "What's that for?" and "What's that do?" He's been as involved as possible in helping Dad build the new kitchen. Occasionally, one sees him with two hammers and a screwdriver. And he knows what they're for. And what they do.
Mirielle has a unique way of moving. She sort of drifts effortlessly from place to place. Her white hair is like dandelion fluff, barely anchored to our particular idea of time and space by her tiny, graceful body. There is a simple joy in just watching her comings and goings. It's quite possible that she slips in and out of our dimension; or that she is some sort of faery changeling. What is certain is that her being is a great gift.
Occasionally, when I am somewhere in Vilate's orbit--holding her, or near her while she sits in her swing, I sense someone looking a me. And sure enough, her big blue eyes are fixed on me, drinking me in, just hoping, hoping! that I, her one and only mother, will look at her. And when I do--oh, the joy, the rapture! Her eyes fill with light and something for which "smile" is an understatement possesses her whole body. She is all that is good and wonderful and right, and in those few moments, I become a better mother and a better person.
