Arrine and I travelled to visit a dear friend in Saskatoon this past weekend. And Arrine realized on the Friday night that she could climb out of her playpen. Long story short, Arrine and I slept in the “big bed” together. And I loved it. Ok, I didn’t love the kicks to my bladder or the arms being flung against my face, but in those moments before sleep fell upon us, it was calm and peaceful and loving and I thought of amm.

Arrine said to me, “Face me, Momma.” (She has started calling me “momma” as of late.) So we lay there, face to face in the dark. And she said, “Tell me a story, Momma.” She rolled onto her tummy and I rubbed her back and gave her hair tickles as I told her the story of Princess Arrine, just as amm used to tell me stories about Princess Kae. And I realized just how hard it is to come up with interesting and sensible stories on the fly.

Then she repositioned herself and placed her warm, pudgy hand on my cheek and said, “Sing to me, Momma.” And I sang the lullaby that amm would sing to me. Over and over until she was asleep.

I thought of the many times I crawled into bed with amm. Not only when I was small, but even when I was in high school and needed my mom. And those last days with her in the hospital when I would contort myself to crawl into the hospital bed with her. And how I told stories to and sung to my Momma then…

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