I miss him. He blogs here.
We can finally have this conversation
now that I can understand
his words, the older one demanding my
sister's attention when I call
far too seldom. Without transition
she begs off and regulates, capturing
motherhood better than all the memories
we share. Her reprimands and counts of three
make me smile in ways I wish she could see.
She always apologizes and it's never necessary.
Now is the time of Legos.
The older one makes and follows plans. He is
methodical, and his brother watches him. I know
from my sister's capable description mostly.
(They live time zones away.)
They have hundreds of interlocking bricks.
I remember from my childhood wheels and various
rectangular pieces and the odd leftover duplo
with syrupy nostalgia. I intend to watch
with approval, perhaps on carpets or
at child-sized tables with them
before too much time passes
and they've moved on.
The younger boy has words now
also, and it is time to say hello.