‘I will be okay’

When I was six, my mother and I were out walking. Not six and a bit. Not six and a whole half, as I once said – will say . Six exactly. There we were. Walking. Through a wood, actually. A forest. Along a long, looping path; a path that to me, at that age, was long and loopy. On our way. When my mother told me that her mother died when she was six.

This, then , was six. Stopping to say such things so the day darkened around us.

I cannot imagine what prompted this. How could I not know? How could I not have already known? I could not imagine it, and yet I did. Imagine!