Cape Cod: Smiling (For Amanda and Tim)

Cape Cod: Smiling -For Amanda and Tim I was trying to picture the person I want to be when I'm older, and all I could see was you. I couldn't see your accomplishments or accolades. I couldn't see your body, or its fluctuations. All I could see was the smile on my face that you've carved over the years. It encompasses every other smile I've ever deigned. The smile you've gifted me has been the one of church giggles, Chaplin farce, the moment Dorothy reawakens in Kansas, my first home run, when she hit that high C, first time without training wheels, reading David Sedaris on the plane alone, and seeing a child walk with new feet. I'm smiling just thinking about it. And mostly about you. When I grow up, I don't need to be successful, wealthy, intellectual, able to finish the New York Times crossword, thin, funny, or an astronaut for that matter. When I grow up, I need to know you've grown with me. Then I'll lay down the mirror only to find my reflection in your beautiful face. Smiling. Grown up. Complete.