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Everything at Once: Notes to My Son

Everything at Once: Notes to My Son Jonathan Hiskes June We returned from the hospital, our family, and immediately I shrugged the bags off my shoulder and set to work unpacking dirty clothes. I've always had this compulsion to unpack right away, always in a hurry to restore order. Then I turned to watch your mother. Unshowered, still exhausted from labor, she lifted you from the car seat into her arms. "This is our couch," she whispered, walking softly. "This is our kitchen." You won't comprehend any of this for months, you shriveled, squinting creature. You haven't even learned to hold your eyes open. Yet Hannah paced the house, letting the familiar squeaks in the floor comfort herself, if not you. I stopped to watch--the laundry could wait. She showed you the nursery, the crib, the artwork still leaning against the wall where we meant to hang it. I have known her as lover, friend, traveling companion, comforter. As she opened the back door to introduce the garden, I saw her anew. I didn't need another way to love her, but there it was. Everything at Once: Notes to My Son 125 Jonathan Hiskes July Four in the morning and you're wide awake. In your http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png River Teeth: A Journal of Nonfiction Narrative Ashland University

Everything at Once: Notes to My Son

River Teeth: A Journal of Nonfiction Narrative , Volume 16 (2) – May 6, 2015

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Publisher
Ashland University
Copyright
Copyright © University of Nebraska Press.
ISSN
1548-3339
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

Jonathan Hiskes June We returned from the hospital, our family, and immediately I shrugged the bags off my shoulder and set to work unpacking dirty clothes. I've always had this compulsion to unpack right away, always in a hurry to restore order. Then I turned to watch your mother. Unshowered, still exhausted from labor, she lifted you from the car seat into her arms. "This is our couch," she whispered, walking softly. "This is our kitchen." You won't comprehend any of this for months, you shriveled, squinting creature. You haven't even learned to hold your eyes open. Yet Hannah paced the house, letting the familiar squeaks in the floor comfort herself, if not you. I stopped to watch--the laundry could wait. She showed you the nursery, the crib, the artwork still leaning against the wall where we meant to hang it. I have known her as lover, friend, traveling companion, comforter. As she opened the back door to introduce the garden, I saw her anew. I didn't need another way to love her, but there it was. Everything at Once: Notes to My Son 125 Jonathan Hiskes July Four in the morning and you're wide awake. In your

Journal

River Teeth: A Journal of Nonfiction NarrativeAshland University

Published: May 6, 2015

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