At six, my daughter doesn’t know
her visit to the oral surgeon tomorrow
is a hardship. She is thrilled about losing
three teeth in a day, just think
what the tooth fairy might bring!
She twirls around the room and hums
a tune that only she knows. I do not tell her
how much it might hurt. I tell myself
it may not be so bad, that children
heal faster. Just last week, she was bit
by the cat and already the wound
has disappeared. I tell myself it is better
this way, the not knowing.
I try to imagine not knowing
how much it hurts when the ones
we love are in pain. I want to save her
in ways I can’t save myself—save her
from the sting of worry. Tomorrow
is nowhere here. For now, there is
this song spiraling out, there is
this spinning, laughing girl, there is
this heart breaking before its time,
this longing to hold something
that can never be held.