The reality of being alone creates the reality of relationship
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Our three grandchildren range in age: just over two, just over three, and six years old. They are adorable. I think at first that is not possible for a grandchild to be anything less than adorable. Of course that is the message sent coursing from my eyes through the internal web, the model for the one we can all connect to, that mushy thing that lives, sometimes in comfort, sometimes in despair, inside my skull. Someone else might see them as cute, or clumsy; hear them as too quiet or too loud; experience them as too shy or too pushy.