Remembrance

The vivid remembrance of these things at times seem to haunt me as episodes of her life play out in my mind like a well written script of which she would be so proud.

• The sound of her sucking on that dreadful pacifier.
• The look of determination on her face when she was going to do whatever it was, regardless of the consequences.
• How her little hand felt in mine as we would walk around during this time of year gathering the fall leaves to make our wax paper place mats for Thanksgiving
• She thought she was beautiful when she had applied her play makeup and looked like a clown, but wore it all day at preschool any way
• She wanted a party dress but was satisfied by just trying them on for hours and having a fashion show in the dressing room because there were huge mirrors
• the way she engaged an audience outside Kaybee Toys on a keyboard with a microphone attached as she sang operatically the happy birthday song. All she needed was a hat for tips.
• The way she and I would read in bed, she'd read a chapter until she saw that I was going to sleep. She would then ask me what she had just read. When I couldn't answer she'd make me read until the same thing happened to her.
• The way she would perch herself in the middle of the kitchen island stirring cookies to bake
• How once she had read a book about growing balloons and being such a literal child she wanted to plant them to see if they would grow. Of course she and I did plant balloons. While she was gone for the weekend, I blew up all the balloons and made sure they were where she had planted them. The look on her face when she got home was priceless.
• She and I used to build fairy houses in the woods. Sometimes I still catch her looking under toadstools to see if the fairies are out.
• How only she would put frogs and lizards in the bathtub with her, wash them with soap and let them swim.
• That in fact her name should have been Ellie May Clampett because of her love of animals.
• How her determination is so strong that whatever she sets her mind to she tackles and she does it with such grace that a struggle would never be seen.
• The way she comes up with her own words, she could make a small dictionary of her creations.
• Just the way she used to be before she grew up so much

Some days the sadness for me is so overwhelming, I do a good job hiding it, I guess. It's just under the surface, a superficial scratch away. The lump in my throat and the pain in my heart is a constant, but life goes on.