Where did the minutes and days and years fly to? Happy Eleven, my sweet Hurricane D.
When you were born, you had colic for four months. It was deep mid-winter, and I felt like such a failure, trying to make you feel okay. You cried and cried for hours. But this song, when you heard it, made your body go soft and slack. For a few minutes, the world stopped spinning and it was just you and me, looking out of an icy window. We played this song, over and over, and I pressed you flush against my chest, dancing, looking for stars and moonlight.