is me. I sit here, doing this. I am engaged though, in thinking about the twenty other things that I need to accomplish before I make my way home. You see me and I have a smile on my face. I simply don’t know how to unscrew it. I haven’t had time to learn. I do have time to run to the store and pick up milk and peanut butter. If the occasion calls for it, I can oil the chain on a bike, but don’t have time to watch my daughter ride up and down the street.
I want to spend time with my youngest, find out how he sees the
David Brown - Happiness
world. He was a month old the other day; now he’s seven. He has a smile that catches but never releases; I haven’t the time to sit and enjoy it. When my wife needs to talk, I know what words to listen for but my focus lies with tomorrow’s acquisition, so when we embrace I make sure my hand is placed carefully in the center of her back. I can pull her closer that way. I remember when the sweet nothings that were whispered in her ear referred to far off places; now they regularly include titles, movie titles. This Friday we will be viewing Spanglish. It’s a flick with Adam Sandler. On Saturday she’ll refer to a scene in the movie that only the lids of my eyes noticed, but I’ll nod obligingly. We’ll be together as she watches the movie and the movie watches me- sleep.
She seems happy. The glint in here eye telling me, praising me for
being there. She loves me just for being there. She adores me because I make a difference, in her world and the world of my children. I make a difference by smiling, by nodding, by winking, by knowing all the right things to say. I know all the right places to touch. I know all the right 39