Today should
have been just another day. I really should’ve. I know it should have. My mommy
knows that too. But instead it wasn’t.
I wish I were at
home playing with my favorite stuffed tiger, or coloring with my brand new
crayons.
But here I am.
In an itchy black dress, holding my mother’s hand.
Mommy sniffles,
and her eyes are all red. I already asked her if she was okay three times, but
I asked her again, just in case. She told me the same thing every time, “I’m just
a little sad, honey.”
I had a brother.
Well, I was supposed to. My mommy says that when he was born, he decided that
he wanted to fly back up to heaven instead of stay here. I don’t understand why
he would want to do that. What’s wrong with here? I love it here. I love
everything about here. But he didn’t.
So I stand here
with my mommy, as we bow are heads over a big black box. I am wondering what is
in the black box, but I don’t think I should ask.
I play with my
hair and hum songs and lay in my mommy’s lap. People talk and sing about life
and losing people. We haven’t “lost” anyone. Everyone is here! I giggle, they
are so silly. Finally after what seemed like forever, we leave.
We are on the
bus, and I am exited to go home and draw. I am telling my mommy about how
exited I am, when a lady sitting next to me begins to speak. “You have a lovely
daughter.” The lady pipes. I smile. “Thank you,” my mom says quietly.
Then she smiles
at me. “Is she your only child?” The lady continues. “My mom’s eyes get all red
again. “Well,” she starts. “I had a boy. But he passed away.”
The lady smiles
and shakes her head. “Well then that doesn’t count.” My mother’s eyes began to
water.
“Ma’am,” my
mother said softly, “my boy was a blessing. He was only a baby when he passed,
but within the days he was alive I developed a love and joy for this child. He
made me laugh, he made me cry. I even started to match which family members he
looked like. And when he died-when…” my mom began to shake a little. “when he
died, I was hurt. Even if he was only a couple days old, I still felt as sad as
I would if he was old as me.IN the end,
it’s never about numbers. It’s about love. With that, mom picked me up
and carried, me off the bus, even though it wasn’t our stop.
I didn’t say
anything. I didn’t think I should. Luckly I didn’t have to. My mom began to
speak as we started to walk towards a playground nearby.
“Honey, I love you
so much. The last couple of weeks have been hard. But o promice it will get
better. I will try to smile more. I will try to have more fun.
I nodded. Mom took
my hand, and with a smile as big as the moon, we ran into the playground.