Sigh. You either run from it or learn from it. So says The Lion King’s great sage, Rafiki. I wasn’t running.
“Olivia?” I called. No answer. “Olivia? Say ‘yes, mommy’.”
If I didn’t tell Olivia to say ‘yes, mommy’, she would not answer. She didn’t understand why she had to answer. I explained, repeatedly, that when she answers me it tells me that she heard me. She informed me, repeatedly in return, that of course she could hear me, did she not have ears? She was not being cheeky, it’s just that, for her, me telling her that I don’t know if she can hear me is tantamount to me telling her I didn’t know she had ears.
“Yes, Mommy?” She repeated the phrase.
“Can you grab your iPad, your headphones, and your bag of happiness and come into the sunroom?”
“No, Mommy!” she called back. Again, not being cheeky or defiant, just factual.
Olivia had issues transitioning from one activity to another, especially if she was doing something she really enjoyed. One day that would always stand out for me. She was playing with silly putty, pressing it down flat on the table, then slowly peeling it back up. She called me to her, pointed out all the little ‘tendrils’ of silly putty that clung to the table, popping off slowly as she pulled, and told me this was how it was for her when I tried to pull her away from doing something she didn’t want to stop doing.
Clever girl.
I found her in my bedroom watching her show on tv.
“Olivia, how much longer in this episode?”
“I don’t know, Mommy.”
“Pause and check, little bird.”
Olivia loved wings, had always loved wings. Anything with wings fascinated her and she used to fly around, her little arms mimicking the movement of a bird’s wings. She earned the nickname little bird when she was three and it stuck, along with the fascination with wings.
She paused Netflix. “Six minutes and fourteen seconds.”
“Okay. Finish this episode and don’t start another one. Get your iPad and your bag of happiness, then meet me in the sunroom in six minutes, okay?”
Her bag of happiness was what we called the bag that she filled with her most important belongings. Those items that made the cut, she carried around all day, every day.
“Okay, can I watch now?” Her big brown eyes remained glued to the frozen picture on the tv, but I knew she was paying attention.
“After you finish this episode, we’re going to have Zen time, music time, drawing time, some school time, then lunch. Got that, little bird? Agreed?”
“Agreed. Can I watch tv now?”
“Yes, little bird. See you in six minutes.”
It was a bit of a crap shoot as to whether she would comply in six minutes or not, but even if she didn’t, she made the agreement and she’d be able to leave the tv right away if I had to go back in againto retrieve her, even if she did start a new episode. These negotiations were frustrating but accepting them as part of her process went a long way to avoiding meltdowns, which were infinitely more frustrating and exhausting for both of us. Besides, it would be unfair to set her off if I could avoid it.
I loved my sunroom filled with plants. I loved my pretty writing desk with its curvy legs and tiny drawers, its curvy skirt, and matching curvy-legged chair. Notebooks and sketchbooks lay at the top right corner for fleshing out ideas for Parsley. My laptop lay front and center, ever ready to go, and top left lay a pretty ceramic tray with pencils, markers, and pencil crayons, for both writing, drawing, and homeschooling. I sorted out what I needed for writing and teaching.
This was the room where Olivia and I spent most of our time. It was soothing for both of us. Olivia wandered in, her little cat trotting behind her. We discussed the order she’d like to follow for the morning and got to work.
Well, she did.
I mostly sat and stared at the blank screen on my laptop.
Zale
It hurts to see them suffer. Both his girls struggled to cope with life. All three of them if he included Mara’s younger sister in that equation, and he did. Willa lived with them off and on for severalyears starting when she was a teenager, and she spent a lot of time with Mara before he arrived on the scene. His girls were important to him, but Mara, Mara was everything.
Delicately pretty, like a China doll. Perfect lips, big, brown eyes, winged eyebrows like an old-time movie star, and dimples when she laughed, and she laughed a lot. She was funny, found the funny in life, and did not hesitate to share that. She appreciated little things, never asked for much, was easily pleased, and aimed to please those around her. She was fiercely loyal and fiercely protective of those she loved.
Mothering came naturally to her, which was astonishing considering her example, and she mothered not just Olivia, but all her family and friends. The way she leaned in with her best friend Bex after Jack passed was evidence of this, along with the advocating she did constantly for Olivia, and the way she stood in for her mother with Willa. Thankfully, Willa and Bex gave that back to her, and they lavished it on Olivia.
Mara was generous with her time, always willing to help, openly affectionate with him, with their daughter, with her sister, and her best friend. She cared passionately, felt deeply, and easily expressed her feelings. You never doubted where you stood with Mara, even when it was uncomfortable, which seemed to only happen with him.