Last week was a field trip to Fish Slough - a neat little riparian habitat in the middle of our local volcanic tableland. The dragon and damsel flies were all out, as was a golden eagle, and it was a pretty special morning.
Babbo has a classmate who comes from a disrupted life - he came late to the dual immersion program, he gets excluded by the other Spanish speaking kids - maybe because he's El Salvadoran and not Mexican, and he's moved three times this year.
The boy and I were walking across the Bishop Tuff - this uneven solidified volcanic ash- and I asked him to hold my hand. I squeezed his little hand really hard, and he pulled away. I was starting to do the three squeezes trick that my mom taught me and I taught Babbo. Three squeezes stands for "I-Love-You." I apologized and said that it was just habit for me to squeeze Babbo's hand that way. I told him what the three squeezes stood for, and he gave me his hand back.
Today, I am left with the positive feeling of that kid being willing to be loved.
Last week was also a fun, intense, exhausting trip to my cousin Cathy's wedding at the beach. So many cousins and aunties and uncles I hadn't seen in years, so little time.