Today we played: legos and snap ships flew around around the living room for hours. The whooshing of space battles a constant background soundtrack to our movements. Your cat, Flash, found a marble and swatted it around and around the kitchen table. Zeba and Tonneson asked for music and the three of us sashayed around, swinging our hips and getting down to Taki-Taki. Once the silliness had worn off, I put on Jessie Reyez.
"Papa"
I turn around to see Tonneson just holding the phone close to his ear, swaying back and forth. I look at him and smile. He smiles back.
“Papa” he says again, quietly.
Zeba chimes in: “yeah—we used to listen to that with your papa, huh?”
I feel the tears well behind my crinkly, smiling eyes and decide to turn my back so my nephew can have his papa moment without my emotion in the way. But I feel Brook there with me. He’s whispering: “yes, sister. This is it, just be with them”.
Later, I'm taking the to town, I hear:
“Zeba, do you want to know what I’m thinking?”
My ears perk up. I always want to know what your sweet, wise four-year-old is thinking.
“I’m thinking we should do some wild things!”
Oh, goodness. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.