Dear Persephone,
It’s finally happened. Your imagination has caught fire, and I’ve been drawn into your fantasy world on several occasions.
Granted, you’ve had an active imagination for a while. I still remember the first time you took a block and said it was a train.
But now you’ve taken it to the next level. It started a couple weeks ago. You wanted to get up on our bed, to play a game your mother taught you, of pretending the bed is a boat and the floor is water. I hoisted you up, and I asked if there were alligators in the water.
From that point on, your thoughts guided us. You found a baby alligator who became your friend. Soon you found two, one green, the other pink. You took the alligators with us and they kept us company for most of the rest of the day, and the mama and dada alligators were often lurking in the distance, but we held them at bay.
Years from now you might think I’m mocking you, so perhaps I should make clear that this was for me a joyous experience. I felt incredibly privileged to be caught up in your imaginings. And at the same time I felt a little sad, as I was reminded for some reason of our mortality, and mine especially, and the time we will have here together seemed suddenly far too short to me.
Discover more from b.rox
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Beautiful and touching. Imagine on P!
When my older daughter was about P’s age, she had a flock of imagined animals that went everywhere with us. If I remember correctly, there were several chicks, some mice, some sheep, and an elephant, among others. Most of them rode in the car with us but the elephant had to follow along because he couldn’t fit inside. Every once in a while she’d giggle out of nowhere. I’d ask what she was laughing about, and she’d tell me one of the mice was on her head, or the elephant had just stuck his trunk in her pocket. I loved this phase!!
My baby girl is 141 months. This week she is off at camp and for the first time in all of those months she left her pink blanky and Teddy at home. Maybe she thought I would need them.
I know you have an excellent memory B, but this blog will help you remember the little things such as these that I’ve forgotten about my oldest daughter. Reasons as these are the joys of being a parent. And they are the best!
I have this experience often–profound sadness in moments of pure joy with my kids.
Just wait until she outgrows those pink boots. Will you ever be able to part with them?
You, your daughter, me–we all are alive for as long as we are alive, and no matter how long or short a time that is, it’s wonderful.
Lucky me, lucky mud!
Peace,
Tim
Thanks for sharing. It is so special to watch children at work. She is one special kid! She’ll be so thankful for the fabulous digital life story you’re creating.