Snippets of Everyday Life (pt. 8)

"I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship."
 - Louisa May Alcott, in Little Women 


As my friend speaks, she moves her hands in illustrative gestures and involuntarily signs a few words. She knows American sign language, and loves being able to interpret. Her fingers are quick and precise; deft motions ending in a graceful flutter, for in this conversation she is not interpreting for anyone, but is merely speaking with her hands as well as her voice. I love to catch those signs which season her sentences, her thoughts being made known in two languages at once.

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My sister's bunny raises herself up on her hind legs, ears perked and nose twitching. When she sits back down on her haunches, I stroke her back, marveling at the lovely mottled pattern of her brown fur. We had rabbits as children, two rabbits given to us at nearly the same time who weren't supposed to get together but did. One day there was a cloud of fur lining the female rabbit's hutch. We cleaned it out, having no idea she was making a nest. A day or two later, eight baby bunnies had come into the world, pink and wrinkled and tiny. My brother found them, yelling, "Baby rabbits! There are baby rabbits!" all the way across the yard and into the house. For a time, we each had a baby bunny to play with, though for the life of me now, I can't recall the name I chose for mine. My sister's bunny feels a bit like velveteen; in a moment, wanting to explore, she hops away across the rug.

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I went to see the new movie "Little Women" (with my friend who signs). We both loved it immensely. I had tears in my eyes through nearly the whole film, not even trying to wipe them away, as it seemed pointless. They slid down my neck and pooled in the dip between my clavicle. The story touched me in so many ways, even more than ever before; what it means to be a woman, a sister, a wife, a generous spirit and an ambitious dreamer. What it means to forgive, and go through loss, and hope for more than seems possible. I found new love for Amy March. I wanted, as always, to be as dauntless as Jo, the brave and true heroine who has inspired so many girls to be their own version of free.