Ma and Za

I took this home, back when, --- on one of those endless, decaying days when I was the drunken uncle, and Ma Kettle had the kids praying for me. At the time I felt merely flattered, or even morosely proud, that a child had decorated my name and this was mine and I could hang it on my wall. Now I am still a shallow man but maybe not so much, almost two years sober. Now it rightly unsettles me, but when I am well, truly recovered and safely sober, I'll have the proper feeling, and look at this with a light-hearted smile.
I wonder at how children are grown over by themselves, almost as if lost or forgotten. This is sweet, this is where our heart- memories come into present day focus and amaze us. It wasn't any dream, and of course children improve, into their own right. I'm fortunate this child may someday realize that she witnessed a metamorphosis, just as I was witnessing her swift and stormy changing.