When I turned five my mom sang to me "I'm Five" by Barbara Streisand over and over (in her best Brooklyn) and it was the best. When she sang it I felt really special like someone had finally penned and composed a song about how amazing it felt to turn all five fingers.
So tonight, on the eve before her birthday, I sang "I'm Five" to Ever and then because technology is a gift my children get to have, we looked it up on youtube and I played the video to her.
And then, I don't know, but a huge wave of love came over me. Because for a moment, you know, I was my mom and she was me. It was like time travel and body-swapping happened on the couch in our living room while youtube played us back to "why does this have no color?" time.
I looked at my daughter's face and for the first time in our relationship I remembered being in her spot in time. I remembered exactly what it felt like to be five. We've never shared that before.
But at the same time, I felt like I suddenly understood my own mom's love and charity for me. I could feel her hope for my five year old self as I looked at my own daughter. And interestingly, my grandmother gave birth to my mother at the same age my mom had me which is also the same age I had Ever. This is meta.
I thought my mom was the coolest human on earth when I was five. I thought it was so fancy she could sing Barbara Streisand. Fancy AND funny.
I hope Ever thinks I am fancy AND funny and cool for knowing how to find Barbara Streisand on youtube.
But even if she doesn't, I have to say for the record: Ever is phenomenal. She's smart and quiet and day dreamy and introverted (sometimes when friends come over to play she gets about an hour into it and asks if she can take a nap) and elegant.
And when I reach back into my memory to when I was five, I guess I sorta see myself as all those things too.
Maybe not elegant.
Not like Barbara anyway.
Happy birthday to my great, lovely friend Ever Jane!