I crawl into bed with her, cuddle up beside her. The air around her feels cool and light. I pick up the book and it's then that she recognizes me. Her eyes widen, her face smiles. She knows I'm about to take her to the Hundred Acre Woods, that I'm about to breathe life and color into her room as I crack open the book. The love for Winnie the Poor is one we share.
I read out loud to her. I become the animation and the voice. Of Pooh, Piglet, Christopher Robin, even sad old Eeyore. I shift from the words on the page to her cinnamon eyes and back. I exaggerate my tone, push color into the words, give voice to the Hundred Acre Woods.
Her eyes are fixed on me, her mind in the story, her face eager and happy.
Yesterday, we went up the stairs and down and decided our favorite spot was halfway. Yesterday we built Eeyore a new home since he was the only one who did not have one. Yesterday, Piglet had very cold toes, from the snow. Yesterday it was Pooh's birthday too, and we went to his party and gave him honey.
Yesterday, we were Mother and Daughter, only she was me, and I her. And the birthday I had was one we shared with each other, and a very special cast of characters.
4 comments:
best entry yet:
creative;
moving;
familiar;
untouchable.
Alison - you are a woman of steel. I admire you so. I was sitting here thinking that I'm not sure I could do what you do, were I in your place. But then I remembered what you wrote in another post...basically, that we do what we must. I can't even imagine how heart wrenching it must be.
Beautifully written. I know it's wrenching for you to have your mother in this place she is now, but I've wished so often that my mother had lived long enough to be old. Now I am older than she was when she died and I am keenly aware of how much she missed in life. Your mother is so blessed to have you. Carmon
It's great that you are finding joy in the moments shared. I'm so proud of you, Alison...
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