Monday, December 12, 2005

This morning, his language

skills are good
and he uses them
to the utmost.

In the shower,
he yells:
Let me out of here!

Dressing him,
he pouts:
I can’t wear that.

Fixing his hair,
he says:
You must be
tearing
holes in my scalp.
Every time
you brush
my
head hurts.


I suppose,
I need
to find a gentler
faucet,
and a softer
brushing hand,
one with the child
still in it.

-Esther Altshul Helfgott

4 Comments:

Blogger mmarzipan said...

'a softer brushing hand, one with the child still in it'..
reminds me of a scene in a film i recently saw where the child is brushing the mother's hair every night to ease her pain..i guess as adults it's easy to forget how heavy our hands can be..how they harbor so many emotions..but also how they heal when the touch is barely felt.

6:45 PM  
Blogger Esther's Writing Works said...

Sometimes the simplest touch annoys him; at other times, like at night when fear grabs him, touch is joy and miracle ...

1:52 PM  
Blogger mmarzipan said...

it must be difficult to know..so touch can no longer be spontaneous...and the fear at night...how like a child he becomes..

4:37 PM  
Blogger Puah said...

Esther I love the way you restore him to us even as you tell us how his language deteriorates ...

12:45 PM  

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