It is very late, but I am awake, and alert. Listening carefully for my little daughter through the dark. Her heavy, labored breathing and horrible coughing. I've spent most of the last night, this day, and this night just holding her, singing softly to her, rubbing her back and kissing her damp brow. Trying all sorts of tricks to try and get her to drink something. Maybe eat just a little bit. And wishing and hoping with all of my heart that she soon be well again.
It's been several weeks of this now, first me, now her. We've been spending an awful lot of time in the house together. For times like these I've learned to keep a box full of simple children's projects tucked away. This box can mean the difference between a dreary day and a brilliant one! And so, one at a time, I've been pulling out all sorts of happy tricks...
Perhaps there may be some paints, special felt brushes, gummed sitcky shapes. Playdoh. Rolls of coloured paper tickets (with which she makes her careful marks on, and delivers to various mailboxes about the house). Chalk, and chalkboards. Wooden bead sets to make necklaces with. Sticker books. Kumon workbooks. Sweet building blocks. She carefully constucts herself beautiful houses and gardens of blocks, and then she will inform me that I live there with her, too. The two of us, together for always.
This little girl makes my heart just ache.
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