Homework

Math has never been my strong suit.
So I don't calculate immediately.

First I focus on two girls in matching dresses--
one with pigtails and bangs, around age eleven;
another with a cute pixie style, around age four.
Although the photo is black and white,
I see color--
navy blue, short sleeve, above-the-knee, knit dresses
with wide bands of pink and cream.

Next I view the boy with a brushcut, around age nine.
He stands in the photo wearing a familiar, mischievous grin
announcing he's "full of the dickens."
A memory flashes of him chasing the sisters
with live frogs
and dead birds.

There's a toddler in a dress shirt and shorts
sitting on the dad's lap.
He's smiling. He's beautiful.
The dad smiles too.
Though seated, he's obviously tall.
But his hair is dark.
That throws me off.
I close my eyes trying to recall hair color
other than grey.
I can't do it.

The mom in a lovely dress, also seated,
smiles--proud of her family.
She wears an up-do piled high.
I consider the amount of teasing and hair spray
for such a result.

Wait a minute.
What year is it again?

I close the church pictorial directory
to read the date on the cover.

That's when I do the math.

So...the youngest of the five children is not yet born.
She's still forming in the womb.

And there is more figuring to do.
I concentrate.
Okay, let's see.
Take the year of this photo;
subtract the year he was born.
Really. He's only 38?
No wonder his hair is dark.
I repeat the process for the mom
and come up with 36.

Then I figure my age--
37.

Well,
that changes things!
They're young.
I sit with these equations.

How disarming to see parents
for the first time
through adult eyes.
It catches me off guard,
like an ambush.
I struggle to name the emotion.
What is it?

I feel...

more forgiving,
increased understanding,
added love,
multiplied gratefulness,

plus

very thankful
I finally
did the math.