Hands

I am walking along the sidewalk in Phuket keeping an eye on the kids and trying to avoid the hawkers of goods only tourists could want. We turn the corner in the direction of our hotel when Elisa saddles up to me and grabs my right hand with her left. I look down and say "Hello Elisa" and she responds "Babi, I love you".

Elisa turned six in August and started first grade today. First grade is the first real day of school here since Kindergarten starts from the time they are three and is a kind of combo pre-school and education experience. I think back a couple of years, to the summer of 2011 when I worked from home for 14 months. I would take Elisa out every day after lunch to the "big playground" and sometimes she would play and sometimes she would just nap in her stroller. I'd sit in the park and watch her play or sleep while I listened to my podcasts. When my work was done for the day, I would take her downstairs to the apartment playground and watch her play some more. All this time with Elisa had some effect. Her English was better at the same age as the other kids. And she was really close to me.

With the family events of the past couple of years Elisa started to drift from me. Still close, but not as close. She didn't out and out blame me but I could tell that she didn't understand how things worked out the way they did. Surely, it must be dad's problem. Over this past summer she's still be happy to see me but less eager to spend time away from her mom, the ayi, and Elisa's little boyfriend. I understood it to be a causality of war and did not dramatize it.

This is what made that moment in the Phuket tourist trap heat special, a weight lifting. There was no more war. Two countries, yes, but at peace.

I don't know what the future will bring besides a sun rise.

I will have my left hand ready any time Elisa wants to reach up and grab it.