Jose Padua: Works and Days

When my daughter was two and
we lived in the suburbs she got
a big rag doll and when we asked
her what she wanted to name it
she shook her head and said “No,
no names.” We ended up calling it
The Doll Who Cannot Be Named.
She carried it with her wherever
we went and whenever some
stranger, impressed by its height
and girth, came by and asked,
“What’s your doll’s name?”
she would explain that it didn’t
have a name, that it was The Doll
Who Cannot Be Named. My wife
and I were always the ones who got
the funny looks–me, weird dad;
my wife, weird mom. And as we
moved farther and farther away
from the city we became more weird,
more beautiful, and my wife and
I brought a son into our world,
a brother for our daughter, and
whenever we try to put a green
hat on his head he says, “I’m not
a Leprechaun” and we go about
our business refusing to say “Yes,”
refusing to say “No,” refusing
to contemplate anything but the
infinite possibilities of our lives.

—

Copyright 2015 Jose Padua

— Julien in the Fountain: Photograph by Jose Padua