"You were so brave," he says."I remember that day they told me I could never see you again.""You came out to the car and you said, 'I'll be all right, Daddy.'""They were all standing there. Your mother and your grandparents.""They told me I could never see you again."You absorb this. You try and fathom what it must have meant to be nine years old and allof a sudden your mother has decided with her parent's help that you can no longer have arelationship with the man you call Daddy. All of a sudden you are crying into the phonerealizing that he loved you. He really loved you and that she had done this.She ripped the fabric of your life apart. At nine.Years later you will meet the girl with the scars on the outside. She seems so whole, soin-charge, so everything. You look at her hands and on one of them half the fingers are gone. Shewears short skirts and one of her legs has mangled skin. You wonder how she can show that.How she can just walk around in the world, so whole, and yet?She tells you about her parents. She tells you about the accident, and the lawnmower,and you don't know what to say. After that, her parents just loved her. Loved her. Loved her...Your mother looks at you fiercely.She has taken another sip of that gimlet and the glass is making a ring on the woodenSpanish carved table before her. Angelica is in the kitchen fixing dinner."You should write a poem," she says. You slip back through corridors of time until youare eight again, looking up at her."Let's call it, 'On Mirrors.'"