Julie
Julie, the youngest of Jim’s girls, was everyone’s pet, easygoing and funny. She was also the girl of many nicknames: Jules to most, Goldie to her dad, and later Wobbles, after one of her sisters teased her about not being able to walk straight. Julie thought that was about the most hilarious word she’d ever heard. When she wrote it down she spelled it W-A-B-L-S, which is exactly how I spelled it—capital letters and all—when I embroidered it in multi-colored floss on a white sweatshirt she wore with pride.
From the time she was a baby, her older sisters and a housekeeper were her primary maternal figures. Somehow she came out perfect, a sunny, energetic child with a great sense of humor who brightened up the room for everyone in it.
night after Julie
Moving in a dream…
I…
Tripping
Through the steamy night…
Blue-gray mystic…
Soft rain dust…
Floating…
Turning inside out…
Touching air
And water
And blonde
And blue-grey child
Touching…
Me.
Julie was a spunky child with love and affection to spare. She seems to have been born equipped to roll with the punches, to take it all in stride. I hope she’s still all that.
give me a daisy 