Desperately needing a change of scenery I dragged my flu-ridden body from my bed to the couch hoping to lose myself in the inane cheesiness of daytime TV.
My Jackbear, who so generously gave me the flu, was napping on the other couch. He snapped awake as the door closed behind my husband and daughter. He started to rush over to me but the comfort of knowing I was there calmed him enough that he was back asleep before he fully made it onto the couch. The poor kid’s head and shoulders were on me, his tummy on the couch and feet firmly planted on the ground.
My arms were pinned. Far away from my kleenex, my water and the remote control.
My daughter had been watching her new favourite ‘horsie’ movie National Velvet. I had never seen it before but without the energy to move my arms (or my child) I was forced to watch it. The flu it seemed was not only diligently working on destroying my body but it was doing quite the number on my hormones as well.
My wee boy shifted his weight and I looked at his sweet little face as the young Velvet Brown got ready for her big trip to England’s Grand National Sweepstakes. I will never know whether it was the way Jack’s hair was whisping from his face, cheeks flushed with sleep, or whether it was Velvet’s pluck as she convinced everyone Pie could win the race but that lump in my throat grew and grew until I was a blubbering mess.
I could be wrong but I don’t believe an otherwise sane person would find National Velvet all that sad but I carried on as if I’d just lost my dog.
I thought of Lily’s independence and spirit watching Velvet cut her hair and win the Sweepstakes. I balled as I thought about how I want both of my children to know that kind of passion. My chest heaved when Velvet arrived home, the whole town cheering for her as she rode down the old dirt road. I admired that dirt road and the simpler times that it encompassed.
And, oh that stubborn Mr. Brown – how he was growing on me.
The tears rolled as I yearned for Mrs. Brown’s quiet wisdom and just a dash of her calm, determined demeanor. I wept until Jack’s shoulder was drenched.
A Walk To Remember came on next. The remote was still out of reach. I won’t even begin to describe how that went.