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“I am Here” 40 x 30, (Glass),

by Rosemary Leach

Millie-Rose, age 4, is under the walnut tree, concentrating hard, and moving sticks on our grassy lawn. We chat about things she likes, what she did yesterday.

She reminds me of my own kids; grubby with play, curated mismatched socks put on with terrific determination, a full being.

Suddenly Millie Rose rises from her squat to her tiptoes and raises her hands high in the air.

“I am here!”, she proclaimed triumphantly.

My own daughter, lanky 19 is perched beside me. She is chronically vexed about her next deadline which I take as seriously as I did the right socks, because the details can make or break your day.

We keep our lips pursed, snort through our noses.

Millie-Rose has parents who pay for daycare. This seems a missed opportunity given that they could rent her out to Buddhist retreat centers.

I wink at my daughter. True; We Are Here.

If you take the time to look, there’s so much beauty all around us, ideally something that has interacted with the world, grubby fingers.

Homecoming, relaxing into our im/perfect moment, is a gift. Reminders all around us.

Thank you Millie-Rose.

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