Carys Comma

My Daughter,

I was watching you the other day. Such a thing is not hard to do. You present a chaotic joy that is delightful.It always amazes me to witness the grace with which you bounce and dance through your waking hours. It is both rhythmic and random.

Your brother is very different. His day is less of a chaotic dance, and more of a methodical meandering. He plods through his waking hours like a curious botanist in a field of flowers. Every step is a another discovery for him.

You are both so different from one another. Yet, I realized while I was watching you both that you adore your brother. When he is away at school, you regularly ask whether it is time to go get him, and when it will be time to get him. Then, when it is finally time, you are delighted, with smile alit. You follow him through the house, mimicking his actions words, and sentiments. His opinion is needed for almost anything you do or think. He is probably as large an influence on you as is your silent, watching father.

Yet, you have an independence about you that I see reinterpreting Caedmon. There is none of Caedmon's careful plod in you. While mimicking him and walking in his footsteps, you do so with your own rhythm - an elated chaos.

You are the apple of my eye and your wonderful brother is the pride of my heart. Nothing delights me more than your happiness, and watching you walk through this world in your own way.

May your dancing be blessed.


Dada