Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Maia tells a story about her Mommy and Daddy

"Come, Daddy," she said. "Sit here," she said, indicating a spot on the bathtub enclosure. "I want to tell you a story."

I had been lying on the bed and had heard Maia telling Kristina a story in the bathroom after showertime, tonight. The story was about her Mommy and Daddy. She's told stories like that a few times. I try to stay away when she's doing that because I think I cause her to stop. But this was such a long and involved story that I wanted to hear it from her.

"When I was baby," she said, "my Mommy and Daddy took me to Maui. I was born in Kazakhstan, and my Mommy and Daddy wanted to take me to Maui. So we got on a plane and we flew to Maui. And I said, 'Goo-goo, gah-gah,'" she said, pretending to be a baby and to point out things.

"And we were on Maui for one month or maybe three months, and then we flew back home. And I fell asleep. And then you, and then my Daddy picked me up," she said.

"And you know, this is what my Mommy looks like," she said, jumping off the bathtub to get something on the countertop by the sink.

She showed me the back cover of a magazine called, "Homescape," about Island living and houses. Thumbnail headshots of all of the real estate agents of a local real estate company were pictured there--more than 100 of them.

"And this is what my Daddy looked like,"she said. "And this is my Grandpa and my Grandma. And this is my cousin."

"Maybe this looks like my Mommy," she said. "No, yes, maybe I had two Mommies," she said.

I looked at the photos and thought.

"How did you get from your Mommy and Daddy to Mommy and me," I asked.

The question stimulated her. She got up, turned around in a big circle, and did a little dance, holding her fingers to her head.

"I will have to put on my thinking cap," she said. "Oh!" she said, "I have a really great idea."

"When we got back on the plane," she said, "I was sleeping, and someone almost stepped on my head. And my Mommy fell down. But then she got up, and we left. And maybe we went to the babysitter's," she said. "There are lots of babies at the babysitter's," she said. "Maybe 10 or 100. And then you came and saw all the babies. And you said, 'That baby is cute, and that one, and that one is perfect!'" she said.

"Is that a good story, Daddy?"

"Yes," I said, "that's a great story, Maia."

Later, we were reading a book on the floor in her bedroom before sleeptime.

"Are you happy, Daddy?" she asked.

John, Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

My friend, Richard Sturtevant

I was an infantry platoon leader in Viet Nam, although by the time of what I want to tell you about, I had become a Battalion Adjutant. A personnel officer. HR for the infantry.

I had been taken out of the field, in other words, and was in the rear. That wasn't by choice. I always felt safer in the field. But because I had been successful as a platoon leader, I was promoted to S-1.

My best friend in the rear was Richard Sturtevant.

Once he was playing chess with another friend--a maverick from West Point. Sturtevant was playing black, and my other friend was playing white. "When are you going to play white, Sturtevant?" I asked. "You get to be a move ahead before the game even begins."

Sturtevant smiled at me and chuckled, but he looked slyly at my other friend, who was also smiling.

I was wrong about the country, Richard. It really is better than I thought, much better.

Mea culpa.

I thought about you a lot, today. I've been thinking about you ever since November 4th.

I've tried to locate you many times on Google. If somehow or other you stumble upon this, I would really like to hear from you again.

John, Tuesday, Inauguration Day, January 20, 2009.