I have a smattering of freckles and moles, mostly on my arms, that Ella has taken to calling sparkles. At first, I corrected her, as she was trying to say freckle but sparkle was easier. Then, I realized that her calling them sparkle was not only that much more fabulous but just so Ella.
Some people have taken to calling me Glitter Girl as I love glitter and anything sparkly. Love it. LOOOOVE it. Someone once asked me what the deal is with my love of glitter, and when I was thinking about it, I think my love of the sparkle comes from my work. Having always worked in social work, I’ve heard about and experienced many a dark day, sometimes those days making it hard to see anything of lightness in the world, and yet, glitter is a constant reminder to myself that no matter how dark the night, there is always beauty to be found in the world, in people, in life, though sometimes it takes some digging before the true shine comes through.
So, when Ella started calling my freckles sparkles, I was all, “ya damn right, I. am. fabulous. Check out my sparkles!” Then, Ella pointed out her own sparkle on her foot, right by her toe; “Look, Mama! I have a sparkle too!” her face was all lit up and she excitedly giggled. And I thought, if any one could personify sparkle, it’s this girl. This strong as a warrior kid who has been to every hospital in the city twice, whose life is full of equipment and appointments, whose body bears the tiny scars of a terrifying day, and who works harder than any three year old I’d ever met is glitter in a bottle, sparkly from her curly hair to her AFOs.
At my desk, pinned to my board, is the quote, “She who leaves a trail of glitter is never forgotten,” and all I see in this girl’s wake is sparkling glitter, the next generation Glitter Girl.