Can we collectively agree not to taint this tribute with daily mail and daily star and daily lying whatever and their stupid agenda because it seems they’re unable to grasp what last night was about and have no idea who Louis William Tomlinson is
In the 4th grade, it became like tradition in my class to loudly shout hello to the janitor when he came in like once a week. We’d all shout “Hello Mr. King!” and then go right back to what we were doing. And he would smile so big and like you could tell he didn’t get this kinda of recognition usually and we did it every time we saw him for the whole year. And then all those kids moved on to the 5th grade and the first time we saw him we said “Hello Mr. King!” while the teacher was talking and she didn’t know the tradition and she fucking lost it like “??? We do NOT interrupt the teacher why did you all do that anyways???” And we explained and she said “Well that’s over. Don’t do it again.” And I saw Mr. King smile sadly and then leave. And that’s why school is fucking shit.
“You can talk to a babe, ye ken,” she said suddenly, breaking into my thought. “Really talk, I mean. Ye can tell them anything, no matter how foolish it would sound did ye say it to a soul could understand ye.”
“Oh. You heard him, then?” I asked. She nodded, eyes on the curve of Katherine’s cheek, where the tiny dark lashes lay against the fair skin, eyes closed in ecstasy.
“Aye. Ye shouldna worrit yourself,” she added, smiling gently at me. “It isna that he feels he canna talk to you; he knows he can. But it’s different to talk to a babe that way. It’s a person; ye ken that you’re not alone. But they dinna ken your words, and ye don’t worry a bit what they’ll think of ye, or what they may feel they must do. You can pour out your heart to them wi’out choosing your words, or keeping anything back at all— and that’s a comfort to the soul.”
She spoke matter-of-factly, as though this were something that everyone knew. I wondered whether she spoke that way often to her child. The generous wide mouth, so like her brother’s, lifted slightly at one side.
“It’s the way ye talk to them before they’re born,” she said softly. “You’ll know?”
I placed my hands gently over my belly, one atop the other, remembering.