Untitled - #1

at a fancy dinner
an older woman
noticed that I was using sign language
and had an interpreter

she did not notice how happy I was to be there
talking and sharing stories with others
listening too

she came up to me
eyes squinted for some reason
squint squint
and spoke in such hushed tones

the interpreter could barely hear her
I couldn’t even read her lips

she asked if I use my voice
and if I “knew” how to talk

I grew dismayed
when I told her I could speak
but I prefer to use sign language
as it’s my natural language

she
chuckled
and scoffed too

she said her husband had throat cancer
and lost the ability to speak
so she had to gesture by waving hands around

and that it was too much work for her
-- it was too much work?
-- yes, too much work

I told her I was sorry to hear that

she simply shrugged,
scoffed again
and walked away

Kung-Pow

As I got older (especially when I was in college), the meaning of Christmas diminished with each passing year. This was due to a combination of clustered factors. I also openly displayed strong disdain for the commercialism tendencies that would seemingly emerge from all avenues of life.

Until Faith, circa 2009.

The greatest Christmas present I ever got was when Rachel was still carrying Faith. On Christmas Eve, while we were in bed, Rachel told me that she could feel Faith moving around.

I put my hand on her pregnant belly and for the first time ever, with a little kick from her teeny-tiny foot, my daughter established contact with me. 

It wasn't just a touchy-feeling situation. It was a kung-pow! greeting.

Ten years later, there's nothing like experiencing Christmas through a child's eyes. The true magic has returned, kung-pow! style.