LolliPop's Cottage: Why do I write stories for children?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Why do I write stories for children?

To cultivate a love of reading.
To open the world of wonder and magic in books.
To inspire imagination and creativity.
To create a smile.

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Mom Said She Would Be There

This story is not a children's story but, rather a memoir, as well as, the first story that I wrote. It is dedicated to my Mom:

I called my Mom today, to tell her that we were going to have a baby. She was so excited, and couldn't wait to see me. When we went there for supper a few nights later, she couldn't stop talking about the baby. We told her that the baby was due in October. She said, "It's going to be a girl!" Mom was going to make a sweater set in every color for the baby but, she was going to make a pink sweater first.

In April, we celebrated Mom's forty-eighth birthday! Mom hadn't been feeling well lately. It was spring time and everything was supposed to be fresh and new but, over the next couple of weeks, we found out that my Mom had cancer. Although we were devastated, we were hopeful that she would beat it.

As a child Mom was struck with polio, and she was told that she would never be able to walk. She did, first with braces; and then on her own. She was also told that she would never be able to have children because she had a tipped womb, along with other complications. The doctors were wrong; she had five children.

After the operation for her cancer, she was told that they couldn't get it all but, the doctors would try treating it with chemotherapy. After everything she had been through we just knew she could beat this, too!

Mom kept on smiling and joking with lots of talk about the baby. She wanted to know what we were going to name HER! We told her that we hadn't decided on a girl's name or a boy's name, yet. She just laughed. I visited with her every week, and she always talked about the baby. Each time, I convinced myself that she looked a little better. I couldn't or wouldn't bring myself to see that she was weakening, even when she was leaning over a pail and emptying her stomach because the chemotherapy was making her sick. She never complained; she only said that she was sorry, and she hoped that she was not getting me upset! She just wanted to talk about how I was feeling, and making sure that I was taking care of myself, and the baby. On one of my visits, I noticed that she was crocheting something pink. I knew that it was for the baby. I teased her and asked, "What if it is a boy?" She only responded with "It will be a girl!"

May came and went with more treatment and medications. Each time I visited with her she would be crocheting with the pink yarn. I remember telling her that she would be better before the baby was here. She was so looking forward to it! She told me that no matter what, she would be there when SHE was born!

The month of June rushed in too quickly, and precious time was speeding by. Mom was rushed back into the hospital. Even when they were putting her in the ambulance, as we were all crying; she tried to make us laugh, by discreetly sticking up her middle fingers on both hands. Mom always thought this was funny and would do it just to make us laugh. She was in a lot of pain. Now, my visits consisted of just me talking about the baby, hoping she could hear. She was heavily medicated and couldn't respond. Somehow, I knew that she could hear me.

My Mom passed away on June 25th. She went peacefully in her sleep. 'A Lovely Woman' is the epitaph on her tombstone. She truly was!

The next couple of months passed, with birthing classes, a baby shower, and the setting up of the baby's room. With each event, I kept thinking that she said she wasn't going to be there when the baby came.

Finally October was here, and it was the rainiest night that I could remember having. We were on our way to the hospital, in the downpour. The baby was trying to make its appearance; in the delivery room the doctor said "It's a Girl!"

Mom, you were right all the time! After the doctor cut the cord and laid her on my chest, I looked down and SHE was holding her hands, the same way you always did; both middle fingers up on each hand! It was then that I realized that you were with me all the time!

Dad came in to see us the next day. He brought a package with him from you to me. Dad said that you wanted me to have it. When I opened it, inside was a beautiful pink sweater, hat and bootie set; they had the faint scent of your perfume on them.

The baby wore the sweater set home, all snug and warm, as if in a hug from you. Thank you, Mom! Watch out for her, as you always did for me. Sleep well with the angels. They are lucky to have you! Thank you, Mom for being there!

In Loving Memory Of

Betty Marie Hall

Beginning

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Why do I write stories for children?

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