Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Almost Three.

You dream of Dada, Mama?
Yes, I do sometimes Pumpkin.
What he doos in your dream, Mama?
Oh. Sometimes we are in a car together, going somewhere. Sometimes we are taking you to school. He is smiling.

The fantasy begins. Or rather, my fantasy does. Can dreams count as memories? Might those images be ones she can envision and hold on to?
Do her dreams qualify as her own freshly minted memories?

I like to think so.

She spends a lot of time "imaginatin'", as she says.

I want dada to see my big girl bed.
I know you do, Pumpkin. But I think he can see us from all around. So maybe he does!
He is restin' in your heart?
Yes he is. That's a nice thing to say, Lily.
I want him to come back.
Ohhh... That would be nice. I would like that too.

And then, my tears appear. Lily has never seen me cry. And she laughs as she is used to seeing me "pretend cry" when I am dramatically reading her bedtime stories.
(Flourish is important.)
But this time they are real, and I just couldn't keep them within.
I was tired, under the weather, and wishing things were different.
I know there's nothing wrong with a child seeing a parent cry.
But this time I had to explain to her that I was crying because I wished he could come back too. And it ached. I ached.
For me, but mostly for Lily. She deserves to have a father, and she's been so accepting until now of not having one.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people advising me "not to make my issues hers". Because I don't.
But people don't seem to understand that one can miss something they've never known.
And this weekend, I saw a lot of that void in Lily's beautiful presence. She doesn't complain, whine or get weepy.
But she is noticing with greater awareness that she is indeed missing out on...
She makes up stories about him. Wants to be loved by him.

Wants to know if he knew her.
He did, Pumpkin. He saw pictures when you were teeny tiny inside of me and he was soooooo happy to see you there and to know that you'd be coming.

When I have a baby I don't want it to be inside of me.
OK pumpkin, that's fine.

Deep breath.

Lots of dada questions this weekend.
She also asked, from astride her rocking horse, when a friends dad would die.
Hopefully not for a very long time, Lily.
Most people live until they are very very old.

And then, thankfully, on to The Beatles - a new musical favorite of hers.
A breakthrough in our home.
What's dat song mean, Mama? She asks in reference to "Let It Be".


Note to self - write book interpreting monumental songs for toddlers.

It's about just letting things... be.

Well done Sus....

Just... leaving things alone, allowing things to be as they are.


Wise words, easier said than done.

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