I am watching supermum paint Brazilian carnival dancers onto a large board with face sized holes for children to stick their faces through. It’s for the school fete. We are in the kitchen and her glass of wine is untouched. I’m switching from one CD to another, listening to her talk (“What about passion fruit? Can you have that? Are there small yellow fruit in Brazil?”) whilst her hand and brush move decisively about the wood. Simultaneously, I’m standing in a memory of her in her studio space at art college nineteen years ago as her hand moves in the same sure, concentrated way and the air about it and us is stilled and quiet, regardless of the chatter in the cavernous shared space for Fine Art Year Two, or the music in our crowded kitchen and the neurotic cat under her feet.
Nineteen years changes people a lot but it doesn’t change everything. Some days I can even imagine believing in a thing called a soul.
Dad Who Writes - Gabriel M. Clarke's blog 
June 24th, 2011 at 8:05 pm
Lovely soothing post. Just what I needed, thanks.
June 24th, 2011 at 9:37 pm
Smiling and smiling to read this! May you have many, many more years together.
June 24th, 2011 at 11:01 pm
You definitely have a soul. You write with it.
MJM xx
June 25th, 2011 at 4:31 pm
I agree with Metajugglamum. 🙂
I’ve been with my husband for 24 years now, and yes, we’ve changed a lot over the years. I remember reading once, when we were in one of those valleys that occurs in relationships sometimes, and I was worried we might not make it out…that it’s important to seek out and find the person you fell in love with in the person you’re with today. They’re still that person. I don’t take that to mean that I should live in the past and think of him as he was, all hair and music and going out dancing. He’s still got the music, but the hair and dancing days are behind us. But some of his interests are the same, while others have changed…and he’s still the sweet guy I fell in love with in 1987. Remembering that, and that somewhere inside of me is that girl he fell for, it really helps.
June 26th, 2011 at 9:36 pm
Oh believe in the thing called a soul. Sometimes, sadly, souls get hidden by the baggage of the journey or the need to toughen up and survive. Working out which bit is soul and which bit is baggage can be hard, but I hope it’s possible and the result is a pleasant one.
June 28th, 2011 at 5:19 am
I think this is what love must look like.
June 29th, 2011 at 9:17 am
I needed that, too.