(and Me)
I'd just brought my 5 year old daughter (Tilly) home from school and as we discussed what new things she'd discovered that day, I discovered something (to my horror) about me from a question she asked me that evening....
Whilst we were tidying her school things away, she asked me...
"What's a cuddle Mummy?"
My jaw dropped
I stood upright, turned and looked at her,
"Had I heard her right?"
Her cherubic face lifted up to me - waiting for an answer....
Meanwhile my mind raced, processing the wide ranging implications of her question, filled with a tumult of 'internal' voices questioning, stating, demanding and berating....
"Oh My God!"
"How could this be?"
"My Daughter didn't Know what a 'cuddle' was?!!"
"What kind of Mother am I?!"
"What would the school think!?"
A gamut of emotions I felt in succession, all at once and by expression - I was :-
Open - mouthed
Aghast
Horrified
Mortified
Stricken
Guilt-ridden
Dumb-struck
Wide-eyed
Incredulous
How could I answer any of these questions?
I pursed my lips as I pulled out a chair, heaved and slumped into it
Patiently Tilly waited
as I fought a losing battle - tears welled in my eyes
She watched me as I cast my mind back
I couldn't remember ever mentioning a cuddle, not once in her 5 years.
Then she spoke as she put her arms round my neck,
a familiar expression...
"A 'Daughter' me Mummy, A Daughter Me"
From the first time I'd embraced her,
I'd always said,
as I hugged her 'too tight'
"My Daughter!"
'A Daughter - Me' = Cuddle
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| My Daughter (and Me) in oils 20 x 16 inches |
