replacements...

we got our car back yesterday, and i wish i had video of esmé seeing her again. you would've gotten misty, i swear, to see her give her new door a hug.

eyes closed, deep sigh, and a whispered thank you for saving us.

we looked at all the parts that had been replaced. this is a new word for esmé - replacement - and she's really trying to understand every angle in its definition.




yesterday, she opened her car door and slammed it smack into the minivan next to us with its sweet owner standing sweetly horrified nearby. after an admirably effusive apology, esmé looked at me and assured me that it's fine...we can replace it.

hmmm. we could, i guess. but that minivan had driven around two boys for seven years, and the sweet owner pointed out every scrape and dent along its side. although i could see not even one.

sigh.

she breaks lillie and grae's toys and belongings with train schedule regularity. it's fine...we can replace it.

she sneaks into uncle sugar's private stash of popsicles in the downstairs freezer. where did they disappear? i don't know, pat. why don't you ask the girl with the blue lips?

it's fine...we can replace it.





and on and on and on.

after our trip to new york, she's been obsessed with the twin towers. i think it was after she heard them described by the empire state building's little movie as brothers.

she's like me. sisters, brothers, sun, and moon...the day can't really be the same without them.

mostly every night before bed, she asks why the twin towers can't be replaced. i have different answers, both long and less, but they all come back to the same idea. there are people involved, and people can never be replaced.

last night, she got it. we were talking about my mom, who is esmé's sun and moon.

she never found another husband, she mused casually. and then sat straight up, blues fast awake. she couldn't replace him. she couldn't replace him!

she was on fire.

and she never got another daughter after lin because she couldn't replace her, either! mom! you're right! people can't be replaced!

you know...this is a nonsense mom moment, probably, to you. i get that. but i also think it's a wonderful rite of passage, too. that understanding that people matter. that they alter actions. they affect outcomes. they're here and then they're not. they're like washable paint, making the world more beautiful in such a semi-permanent way. just don't scrub too hard. don't waste the red. you might make mistakes and turn the whole lot gray-brown, but we all do that, yes? it's almost impossible not to...




say good morning. say goodnight. say it all in between. because moments like this can't be replaced, either.

you know what i realized yesterday? i was listening to this {don't judge. i love the line they tell me i'm the shit, i'm like duh. really. please don't judge.}, devouring tumblrs like candy - especially the ones with nudie women. is that how we're supposed to look, mr. harris tweed? ok, then. i will try harder. - and i thought to myself karey mackin? you are a thirteen year old boy. awesome. have a sweet day, you little sweethearts. love, a thirteen year old boy.