Today she came into the kitchen from the outside.
She nudged that door open with her nose, poked her face in, fixed her eyes on me and walked in, tail gently swaying side-to-side, just as you would have.
Like seeing my granddaughter, whose face evokes the thought of my own sweet child, her name filling my mind and heart. Unable to pass this point, unable to get daughter’s name from my head, in desperation, I must call her “Not-Kerry.”.
I rise and close the door.
It was “Not-You.”.