Even as I challenge the sky, the struggle seems too great for my weightless body. The air whips tightly around my face and hair as my speed increases. I’m almost there I feel myself reflect with enthusiasm. There’s no worry here, no responsibility. I hear something familiar in the distance that provokes my curiosity, I must get closer. I speed up the pace I accomplish against the bright sky as the sound grows into something familiar. The control I just had seems to be slipping from me, shifting to a sensation of falling. The sound becomes a voice, her voice. She’s crying, I’ve got to get to her I say to myself, whether in my mind or out loud I could not tell.
I feel my body jolt as a rush of alarm overcame me, only to feel my head firmly against my pillow. I blink my heavy eyes in the darkness looking up to the ceiling. My terrible eye sight evident while squinting for a better view of the glowing shapes above me, bringing me back to reality. Glow in the dark stars. A senior in High School and I still have those on my ceiling. I should’ve got rid of them a long time ago…but she loves them, I smile to myself. As this thought passes through my mind, I remember what woke me. “Isabelle, sweetie” speaking sympathetically into the dark room. Stretching against my bed, I bring my arms over my head and yawn. My hand reaches beneath my pillow in search of the red plastic flashlight I’ve kept there since Isabelle arrived six months ago. Swinging it out to my right, I flip the switch. The dusty tunnel like shape of light stretches across the worn brown sofa where she sleeps, reaching her little shaking frame. The sobs of the 2 ½ year old continue as the light rests on her wet, swollen face. Oh no, she must have been crying for awhile! I exclaim, the thrilling sensation from my dream hastily being replaced by guilt. I rapidly blink, sitting up and take a few strides toward the sofa until I can sit next to her.
“Ok sweetie, Caroline’s awake. I’m here, I got you”, I speak in her warm ear, bringing her toward me. Flashlight still in hand, I wrap her little body into the “ducky blanky” she picked out several months ago, and gently place her on my lap. I feel her arms and legs struggle to embrace me for comfort, and even before she starts to suck her thumb, I know she will. It has always been something that brings her security. My heart aches as I think of all the things that she has and will miss out on. Her future is so uncertain, but for this moment she needs me.
“Shhh, shhh. It’s ok,” I express softly to her, patting her warm sweaty back. I know just what is to be done. “Is it singing time, baby girl?” I ask, clearing my groggy throat. Messing up her honey brown hair even more I feel her nod, her head resting securely against my chest. “Umm, hmm,” she answers, still sucking her thumb. This brings a smile to my face. I begin the first verse of her favorite song, Shenandoah.
As though time stops for me to reflect a moment, flashes of the past year come to my mind. I had a day in my head. My mom sitting down with me after school, explaining that Isabelle would be staying with us. More memories of how we all scrambled to make arrangements to care for our tender Isabelle. I had eventually decided to work as a lunch lady to help with the expenses Isabelle had need of. The comprehension that for now, my mother would not be able to take on the responsibility Isabelle would bring, leaving much of it to rest on me. I remembered how my sisters pulled together a schedule so that I could have help with her during the day.
I sigh to myself as the seconds pass, holding Isabelle and thinking how remarkable it was to feel like a single mom, when I wasn’t. The wound it made, knowing all that we had been through together still didn’t qualify me for that role. I brought Isabelle with me everywhere: to games, to be with friends, even trips to the store. At times it was truly a struggle but it was one I was willing to embrace. Being judged wrongfully by others all too often gave me perspective. Anything I wanted to go and do, she came with me, just as she would if I were her mother. I recalled how heart breaking it was the first time she actually called me mommy, and not knowing how to tell her not to. I remembered that day we somehow knew, as if it had just slipped our minds, where we belonged to each other; I was “Her Cayine” and she “My Isabelle.”
As I began singing the second verse I rubbed her back, feeling her steady breathing, but I knew she was still awake. Sure enough, I felt her eyelashes brushing against my skin as she blinked. I loved that feeling so much. I pictured it perfectly: her eyes would look up at me, index finger wrapped around her petite nose while sucking on her fatigued thumb. Her countenance was an imprint in my mind from the many adoring moments of “snuggle time” we had. Through her tantrums, cheerful times, or tears, that was all she really needed.
I never expected my senior year in High School to become what I felt more and more was life altering for the both of us. Ending the song I had sung to her several times a night, I glance at the red glare of the alarm clock. Squinting I read the numbers 4:23a.m. and sigh comprehensively. I will have to be up in an hour to get ready for the day, pausing in my thoughts to squeeze the little girl in my arms that I would do anything for. I discern my next thought to be very earnest, but for Isabelle, I’m OK with that. I’m in harmony with being what she needs right now. I kiss her untidy hair, slightly brushing my lips against her tender forehead in the process. “I love you sweet baby girl, your Caroline loves you,” I convey to her while the kisses continue. “Yessh,” she replied, persisting to savor her pruney thumb. “You whuve me, we whuve each ovoe. Umm Hmm.” I heard the smile in her response, making me laugh with delight at the sound of her endearing voice. That voice constantly left me feeling elated; she’s so precious to me! This sensitive thought prompting my response of laughter, returned giggles from her.
Feeding off one another’s laughter, I had to hold back the tears. Tears of love, sorrow, and happiness. I LOVE this sweet girl with a new part of my heart. Something that I never knew I could have so soon. I missed my sister. I loved her. I wanted the best for her and her daughter Isabelle
While the mixture of my thoughts closed, still laughing with my niece in my arms, an awe-inspiring emotion came over my heart: I wanted this moment with Isabelle forever and ever! I wanted it to be tangible for me so I could embrace it at once. I wanted to keep her with me. The feeling continued until it seemed to devour me. I knew that we’d always be close no matter what uncertainty or testing lie ahead of us.
There were yet more difficulties of change and growth we shared that year. But we’d got through it together. Little did I know that night, that we would have an exceptional bond to this day, even though thousands of miles separate us. We are significantly close and I will forever be indebted to her for all she has qualified me to become. She is and will always be, my Isabelle.
