My mother occasionally sends me packages (with more frequency as of late) , ones filled with a special magic that I had felt was lost over the years as I drifted from childhood further and further. But here they are, little boots and a leather belt stamped with my name, toys of a plastic smell I can never forget that come out and entangle me in Castle Greyskull and Prince Adam (the homemade and storebought models), my crayon sketches of Superman with the long drawn out arms, even a day to day (or week to week or month to month: crawling and walking and 2nd child born) journal of my first 3 years. I could not feel any closer to my own beginnings and my own mother than I do right now.
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