I in Her and She in Me

 "Our loved ones are in us and we are in them. When a loved one dies, a part of us also dies. 

Sometimes we think that our loss is so great that we will never be able to be happy again."

Thich Nhat Hanh

I in Her and She in Me

Our school pictures, side by side.

I must have curled her hair that morning,

taking care not to etch her flawless skin

with a burn from the curling iron.

I likely told her to smile for the camera.

Did we practice, aiming for the perfect

upturn to reveal the dimple in her cheek?

I can't recall the top she wears, and I

am sad. I kept only one of the things 

she wore, having styled it myself from

a sweatshirt, a flounce of bright fabric,

and an applique of a happy-faced girl.

My mother, too, would have prepared me

for picture day. My curls were likely made

by bobby pins. My top was a store purchase, 

but most of my clothing was made by

my mother, hunched over her sewing machine

many hours in a week, her love 

for children and craft made visible. 

My smile never revealed a dimple, 

but many times I have stood before 

a mirror in smile practice, and still do. 

How wide is it possible to smile 

when the heart is broken?