February 19, 2013

the bunny in our midst

My niece thrusts her latest possession into the screen. “Bun-bun!”
she squeals, and on the other end, a splay of ears briefly obscures
her face. For the next five minutes, our talk is filled with nothing and no one
but him, and I am witness firsthand to the depth of this fierce allegiance of hers.
If I were four years old, I’ve no doubt I’d echo her devotion, but even
at 40, I understand what erupts that giggle out and then, just after, fixes her grip
further into the length of his neck. It’s not a light touch, this affection,
but the beginnings of a defiant claiming. “Mine” – this will slip
from her tongue and she will feel so certain: this is what belongs to her alone.
I, too, whisper this same word and think it just as true, this love I have but cannot own.