This is where it should become clear why I add “nature” or “nurture” after the chapter number. Hoping this makes sense outside of my head.
My third year of life brought the a couple life events that I remembered into adulthood. As I grew, they seemed unimportant, but at two turning three, they impacted me so deeply as to be etched in my mind.
One day as I played with Nona Betty, she sighed softly and said, “Sometimes I miss you when you’re here because I know at some point you might be lost to me.”
Such declarations meant nothing to me when I was three. I giggled at the funny way she expressed herself and gave her a giant hug to change her concerned look to a smile. When you’re adorable and loved, your hugs have magical powers.
~~
I used those magical powers as often as I could. I loved watching mom or dad smile or lift their shoulders a little just because they felt my love pouring out in that small act. On a couple of occasions, I even worked my magic on strangers. My mom tried to explain that I shouldn’t do that unless I asked first. That took some of the sparkle and spontaneity out of my magic.
To my surprise, even my magical hugs couldn’t save me from my first visit to the emergency room. The morning started off well with Nona coming to watch me for the day, which meant extra hugs and kisses and treats. Those took the form of chocolate or ice cream or a trip to the park. Nona tried not to limit herself to just one love language, particularly where I was concerned.
Just as she arrived, however, I derailed everyone’s plans for the day. In my excitement to throw myself into her arms and breath in the mix of perfumes she chose that morning, I knocked a pillow from the couch. I proceeded to trip over it and slam my arm into the coffee table. Someone crafted that coffee table from sturdy wood. It had proven strong enough to withstand me dancing on it. I didn’t hold up so well. Pain ripped through my arm. My voice rose in a wail that would have summoned my mother from the ends of the earth.
As it was, she raced from the door where she had been greeting my grandmother. She scooped me up into her arms and kissed the tears from my cheeks. More salty drops raced down to replace those.
“Darling, what happened?”
“Arm,” I held it up for her to kiss. “Booboo.”
As her lips touched my soft skin, I whimpered. Instead of helping, the kiss made the pain tear through me again. I shuddered and burst into an even more torrential rain of tears. My mom looked at my dad. The agony on her face mirrored my own.
“Is she okay?” He asked, reaching for me, but I snuggled closer to mom’s chest, favoring my injured arm.
I shunned Nona Bea when she reached for me, too, which caused her to purse her lips and offer her matter-of-fact diagnosis, “I’m sorry, dear, but I think she needs to see a doctor.”
I felt mom nod as she told my dad, “Make my apologies to the Bensons.”
“I’m coming with you,” he responded.
“One of us should show up for brunch,” my mother insisted, “I will call you when I know something.”
He nodded agreement, but didn’t seem happy about it. Nona crossed her arms and looked at my mom challengingly for a second. Then she bit her lower lip and stepped out of the way.
“I better be your second call. I think I will hang around and make a little treat for everyone to share when our angel feels better.” She leaned in to kiss me as my mother passed by.
I didn’t shy away this time. Instead I thanked her through my tears, “Love you.”
She blew me a kiss and clasped her hands over her heart as she watched us head out the door. Mom rushed me out to the car with dad close at her heels. I fought being tucked into my car seat. Mom persisted and managed to get me fastened in with a minimal amount of tears on both sides. She and dad both leaned in to kiss me and assure me that all would be right.
Then she climbed into the front seat. She rested her hands on the wheel. I heard her gasp in great lungfuls of air before I started keening again.
“Hurts. Mama.” I reminded her from the backseat.
“I know, baby. We’re going.”
The car whirred to life. Trees and buildings whirled past my window, reassuring me that help drew ever closer. The pain and blurry scenery lulled me into sleep tinged with agony.
~~
I woke with a cry. My mom apologized as she finished extracting me from the car with painstaking slowness. Then she clutched me protectively to her chest and speed walked past rows and rows of cars until we stepped through automatic doors to be greeted by two men in uniform. They fired questions at my mother before leaning in to whisper reassurances to me.
I regarded them with wide, untrusting eyes as they waved us through. The next few hours passed slowly. We alternated answering questions to a variety of faces atop sickly green scrubs with sitting in uncomfortable chairs. My mom tried to let me sit beside her but after a couple minutes, I insisted on returning to her lap. I stayed there even during the X-ray though I grudgingly let a nurse cradle me gently while they wrapped a heavy apron around mom.
As we waited for a doctor to review the results and hopefully help lessen the pain, another mother came in with her daughter. The little girl had light brown hair and grey blue eyes like mine. She clung weakly to her mother who kept offering her cups of different liquids.
“Please, Maggie, drink some water.”
Maggie weakly pushed that away only be offered juice and then milk. Her mother sighed and confessed to mine that this wasn’t their first time in the emergency room for dehydration, but her daughter would forget to drink and then stubbornly refuse when one of her parents noticed and encouraged her to hydrate. As our parents talked, Maggie and I watched each other. From the moment our eyes met, I felt like I knew her. Her unwavering gaze reassured me that she felt the same. While our eyes remained riveted on each other, she picked up one of the cups her mother had thrust into her stroller and ruminated over a few sips.
When she started slurping thirstily, her mother looked up from her conversation with my mother and exclaimed with joy, “Oh, you’re a miracle worker. Thank you for getting her to drink something.”
I shrugged and huddled closer to my mother, who squeezed me gently. She opened her mouth to speak, but a soft voice calling out, “Opera,” chased away her response.
“That’s us. Good luck,” she called over her shoulder as she clutched me tighter and stood up.
We followed a petite woman with her blond hair pulled into a high ponytail as she lead us through the maze of hallways and curtained rooms. She pulled back one of the drab curtains and held it for us to enter. The doctor turned to me with kindly eyes.
“May I see your arm?”
I shook my head and pulled it closer to my body, whimpering softly. He nodded in understanding and looked toward a small screen. My mom listened attentively while gently rubbing my shoulder to comfort me as he spoke softly, using such odd words that I didn’t even try to understand. Mom nodded and expressed comprehension. Then the doctor left for a moment. He returned quickly with an array of rolled fabric bundles in different colors.
“Which do you like?”
I pointed to the purple one and mom rose from her chair to gently place me on the examination table. I screamed as the paper crinkled under me, but she quickly leaned in to kiss my forehead and boop my nose. Distracted, I only half realized the tiny nurse and the doctor had gently positioned my arm so that they could wrap it in the purple fabric. As they finished up, my pain lessened enough that I stopped whimpering. I looked up at the doctor with eyes filled with amazement.
“You’ll be okay, honey. Just rest and let it heal, okay?” He held out his fist for me to bump with my unencumbered hand.
“Okay,” I murmured sleepily as the day caught up to me now that pain wasn’t demanding my attention and wakefulness.
Even with my eyes begging to slide closed, I watched anxiously as we headed back toward our car. On the way past the waiting room, I caught sight of my new friend and woke up enough to call out to her, “Maggie.”
She looked up and smiled a little as she waved one of her cups at me. Then my mom stepped outside with me cradled in her arms and back toward home where daddy and Nona Bea awaited with our treat.
~
I didn’t get my treat until much later in the day. I woke up to afternoon sunlight begging me to wake up before it set. Now that my arm didn’t hurt as bad, my stomach took up the responsibility of keeping me informed of its needs. A gurgle and a gnawing ache convinced me I needed to find some food. I yawned deeply and looked around, surprised to find myself snuggled into a pile of soft fleece on the sofa.
Soft voices from another room, assured me I had not been left alone. I gently slid off the couch. Holding onto my cast with my free hand as I trundled into the kitchen.
“Mom, dad,” I met their eyes to make sure they were really listening, “I want a baby sister?”
Their eyes widened as did the distance between their top and bottom lips as they exchanged a look.
“Honey, what brought this on?” Dad raised an eyebrow at mom before turning his attention fully back to my answer.
“I dunno,” I shrugged and scuffed my bare feet against the floor.
They exchanged another look before they leaned into assure me they would give it some thought, but that they couldn’t promise anything. My lip disappeared into my mouth as I wondered why their reassuring words made me feel that a little brother or sister wouldn’t appear in my future.
That apprehension faded away as Nona Bea beckoned me to join her at the counter. As she helped me up into the tall chair next to hers, my mouth dropped open in anticipation. I couldn’t wait to explore the layers of delicious she had piled atop a brownie placed on the plate before me. Hints of peanut butter wafted my way as I examined a layer of cookie dough topped by my favorite white frosting.
Chapter 6: Nurture
