Two faces I love. One was born a simian baby with a Mr. Magoo face. She grew into a beautiful child and and into an even more beautiful woman. The other came to me by happy chance. The girl inherited her father’s freckles although you’d never notice in real life. She is the mother of The-Boy-Who-Grew-Too-Tall. The other has an oddly matching freckle. Freckles are not the only characteristics these two share. They have a hesitancy towards people. Not a real dislike, but a wary eye. Both are gentle and brave souls.
They share memories of difficult childhoods. The little girl was mostly left to her own devices as a resourceful, intelligent, creative,and totally responsible child. For a long time, she believed her father left on Mondays for the airport where he lived and worked until Fridays or Saturdays. She was little then and little people need explanations. She worked out other things by herself. Like how to stand on a stool to make her peanut butter sandwich for breakfast before she woke her mother. She was the beautiful latch-key child of a self-absorbed social worker who passed for Mother.
The other was shipped to this country from France when she was three months old. She wears a Nazi-like tattoo inside the leather of her left ear. She is number 2GAZ319. The French tattoo their thoroughbred dogs. She was sent away from her mother, her family, her country when she was only a baby. She was shy. She froze in the show ring. She did not produce the new line her breeder required of her. She failed.
By the Grace of God or by pure chance, these dearest of faces inhabit my world. Each takes care of me in her own way. I am blessed among women.