Sometimes, it takes a fairy...

In therapy, we decided to delve into the depths of childhood. It was decided that I say all of the names that I was called and try to put an emotion on the specific words. I know, boo hoo! Self indulgent, fuck you...

OK, so this proved to be a cathartic experience for a variety of reasons. Namely, I think it reminded me of some words that I had forgotten, my insult vocabulary was increased (Portland drivers beware!)

Fairy was one of the names that stuck out, really, that one stung. It usually was accompanied by the slam of a book bag, or the bash of an arm resulting in the cascade of books down the stairs. Really a hateful use of such a nice word. At any rate, that little word appeared several times in this therapeutic exercise.

Flash forward, it is the Friday before Father's Day. I pick the two beauties up from pre-school. Abigail runs up to me, she hugs me and takes my hand. I am lead to a table full of special Father's Day cards. Into my hands she thrusts an orange piece of construction paper clearly labeled with "Abigail", "Baby Charlotte", "Mommy" and "Sampson the Cat" carefully drawn in magic marker. At the top of the page there is a beautiful creature with two wings. I asked Abigail "who is this" she replies: "it's you Daddy! You are my fairy!"

You have to understand, in Abigail's world Fairy's are the Best thing, there are garden fairies and fairies in her favorite movies and also in her books. In one moment, that sweet little girl reshaped the semantics of a word. I have never felt so good.