The day ends always for him with reading our current book in my bed, followed by reading the Bible, then saying prayers and then into bed. Always, always with the reminders: 'Have you done your inhaler? Have you brushed your teeth?' If I'm feeling particularly generous and wanting to please or if the boy is solemn or unsettled, I add a song too. On most days, it is one of my favourite routines.
Since Saturday night, when my youngest boy had a flare up of asthma (which meant stirring with coughing intermittently and a 5.30am wake up call) he has been even more animated/active/energetic/frenzied/hyper than usual. This is a pattern following a spell of asthma flare up or illness of any sort for him. If I think I'm perhaps projecting and this is not the case, this is put to rest when I enter my room to find him spread eagled across my bed, chuntering something of great amusement and I say 'You are on one today, you're really quite ... hectic!' and he replies amused but emotionally unaffected and says 'Yeah, that's what Mrs. P said and Miss B!'. We both laugh.
We're reading Michael Morpurgo's Kensuke's Kingdom and I'm seriously tempted to read on without him but of course I shan't. I chose the book based on it seeming to be the least bleak of a bunch of well read ceived, bleak books about loss of one kind or another. We're on chapter 4 and I can already predict that things are on a downhill spiral. We stopped reading 'Huckleberry Finn' on account of it getting too spooky, well, brace yourself kiddo because you're about to have Mr. Morpurgo describe to you how it feels to be orphaned.
On the days when I think the routine is done and I suddenly become aware of being filled with the weariness of the day, I begin to mentally unwind as I take my walk downstairs, then I hear: 'I need a poo mum' and all I want to do is scream 'Getttttt tooooo beddddd!!!!' Well today I'm compelled to spill these words, because folks remind me all of the time, these days are not forever, these days are numbered and I am told I will miss them. So, future grown up son reading this, in the absence of my physical or mental presence or maybe the absence of both, know that you were cared for and loved. Know that the date of this entry, I let you have pudding even though you didn't finish your dinner which you know breaks 'mum & dad's rule'. Know also that I suspect you didn't take the thick blue coat to school today even though you said you did. Know that I love you just the same.
There are so many more books to share with you and I hope that you always think of me whenever you come across the many that we have already shared together.