Sentimental Lady

Today while Peter was making lunch (seared scallops with braised kale and black beans. No joke. For lunch!), my daughter proposed that she and I play Zingo. It's a toddler board game, totally my speed. But to ratchet the cognitive development up a notch, I turned on a little Mozart. So sue me. While I was sorting the Zingo tiles, Edie asked me what that song was. I told her how it was a little song by a little someone named Wolfgang, and how he started writing music when he was a little boy. Score!: she began showering me with questions about this little Wolfgang: how old is he now? Do I know him? Will she ever meet him? And I told her how he wrote this music a long, long time ago, and that he has since died. She got that very concerned look on her face and asked me twice: "he died? He died, Mommy?" "Yes, Edie, he died." "Oh," she said. She hung her head and shook it slowly. "I miss him."

Back in September, at the full mass/rehearsal for my brother Sam's wedding, she was checking out the church's stained glass windows. They depicted episodes from the Stations of the Cross. She looked up at one - I think it was the Fourth Station, Jesus Meets His Mother. She whispered to me, "Mommy, who's that man?" I looked up to see who she was referring to. "Oh," I said. "That's Jesus." "Who's he?" Um. "He was a man who lived a very long time ago. He said a lot of things that people that people think were very, very smart." She frowned. "Is he dead?" "Yes, he's dead." She hung her head and gave a slow, solemn shake. "I miss him," she said gravely.

As her mother, I am inclined to wonder whether, before she was born, she was chilling with some heavy hitters out there in the ether. Because she seems to have an impressive amount of sentimentality for the Great Ones. Is it that? Or does she just sense a certain reverence in my tone, which triggers an innate sycophancy? Will she one day say, "The Kennedys. They were really special. I miss them." Or, "The Clash. What a great band. I miss them." And what will she say of me when I am gone? "My mother. She had issues. I miss her."

Also today, I taught her all about the exclamation point.