Her small round face was pale, between remembered milk, or smooth pale parchment or paper. Like all the paper.
Slowly, shyly, she smiled at me.
I had not seen her for three months. She was six.
"I am so pleased to see you!" she said, but she did not exclaim. She spoke slowly, as if to test that it was real, that I was who they told her I would be. Her cheeks were shy smooth apples. She was wearing a beige hooded cardigan and dark blue jeans, all new.
She was smaller and definitely thinner. Her round little face began, shyly, to shine.
"I am so pleased to see you!" she repeated.
*****************************************
Only three years ago, when she was three herself, I had been obliged to take her to an aunt's funeral. It was not an emotional occasion - I am not that close to that side of my family, but we do go to each other's funerals.
I explained very little to my daughter. Her aunt had gone to heaven, we would say a few prayers and blessings and there might be a speech or two,
It will be a bit dull, I said. But do be good for Mummy, I said.
In the pretty little chapel, the preliminaries were accomplished.
She watched it all with interest - the candles, the strange sounding prayers, the kneeling and the standing and the kneeling down again.
Then the coffin was wheeled in, loaded with flowers. You could just barely see the coffin's shape beneath the flowers.
" And now there's a flower box," she said confidently. She looked at it with interest. "They have got a flower-box," she said, again, looking and looking.
Her mouth trembled
"Mummy, I want to go now," she whispered
"Darling, please ... "
She shouted, Mummy I want to go out now. She held up her arms. I picked her up, hoisted her on my hip, and excused us. She looked to the door, her arms around my neck.
We went outside. It was quite nice, not an ordinary cemetry. It was more like a park. There were kangaroos - even a couple of joeys, tame enough to let us come quite close.
Obliviously, eager, she chased them all over the graves....
************
(and now they bring in the flowerbox, and I am so pleased to see you!)
Slowly, shyly, she smiled at me.
I had not seen her for three months. She was six.
"I am so pleased to see you!" she said, but she did not exclaim. She spoke slowly, as if to test that it was real, that I was who they told her I would be. Her cheeks were shy smooth apples. She was wearing a beige hooded cardigan and dark blue jeans, all new.
She was smaller and definitely thinner. Her round little face began, shyly, to shine.
"I am so pleased to see you!" she repeated.
*****************************************
Only three years ago, when she was three herself, I had been obliged to take her to an aunt's funeral. It was not an emotional occasion - I am not that close to that side of my family, but we do go to each other's funerals.
I explained very little to my daughter. Her aunt had gone to heaven, we would say a few prayers and blessings and there might be a speech or two,
It will be a bit dull, I said. But do be good for Mummy, I said.
In the pretty little chapel, the preliminaries were accomplished.
She watched it all with interest - the candles, the strange sounding prayers, the kneeling and the standing and the kneeling down again.
Then the coffin was wheeled in, loaded with flowers. You could just barely see the coffin's shape beneath the flowers.
" And now there's a flower box," she said confidently. She looked at it with interest. "They have got a flower-box," she said, again, looking and looking.
Her mouth trembled
"Mummy, I want to go now," she whispered
"Darling, please ... "
She shouted, Mummy I want to go out now. She held up her arms. I picked her up, hoisted her on my hip, and excused us. She looked to the door, her arms around my neck.
We went outside. It was quite nice, not an ordinary cemetry. It was more like a park. There were kangaroos - even a couple of joeys, tame enough to let us come quite close.
Obliviously, eager, she chased them all over the graves....
************
(and now they bring in the flowerbox, and I am so pleased to see you!)
Last edited:
