good-bye "yarsh"
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 2014.05.14
Our daughter's learning to speak using words, so no more waking in the night only to point at a wall and whisper "yarsh". This happened a couple of times, and I could never get her to clarify what was wrong. Just that same serious look, a brief pause, a slow point at the wall, and a hoarsely whispered repeat; "yarsh". Of course I'd find myself eying the wall with the hairs crawling on the back of my neck. 3 AM is no time for such Exorcist behavior, and I'm glad it's past. Still gives me the creeps just thinking of it.