I feel suspended in mid air, watching a father and a mother make up explanations for the explosions, and the older brothers understanding the need to hide the truth from their tiny sister.
That age, 18 months old, is one I remember as being the one with more night time wake ups than ever before. A surge in brain development and awareness leading to 2 hour wake up times in the night, with the little person crawling around on top of the duvet saying the new word learnt in the day.
The book doesn't mention bedtime stories or rituals beyond watching the children fall asleep. So I have to imagine and of course I can't. My own children are all I know, all I will ever really know.
I keep on writing 'why?' on the pages, because the book doesn't tell me what I want to know.
What is it that enables wonderful, wise and compassionate politicians to do their work? Where does the ability to make a calm assessment come from?
At the recent election here I saw representatives from all the parties standing around trying to sway us in the fruit/vegetable market near my parents' house in London. I went to the UKIP man and told him I wouldn't ever be voting for him, but thanked him for being part of the political system, told him it was so important to be part of it.
When I give my reactions to any book like this in a blog post, I am demonstrating the possibility of not trying to do everything in a review.
This is simply one reaction. Other people can react to different sections in different ways. There are no marks to be gained, just the opening up of the possibility of sharing our own thoughts.
This is what using a timer and passing it around the circle means. Only that ritual includes privacy and the much more personal thoughts which I don't put here.
...
I need to add to this: All I can think about is the image of families coming close for a meal, then boom, gone. And the step-mother with the tears running from her eyes after each day of funeral gatherings. All these family relationships.
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