My Sanctuary

This piece of 55 fiction was inspired by the photo taken by Vidya Sury and written for Write Tribe's  55 on Friday writing prompt.

    There is a place filled with colorful books which offer thrilling adventures within their covers.  I am content to explore and be enthralled.  While there, I forget those who taunt me.  I forget how alone I feel.  In that wondrous place I escape and discover characters that welcome, love, and accept me every single time.

Bedtime Story

     My mom would tenderly tuck me in and kiss me good night.  If she read to me, I can’t remember because it wasn’t an every night thing and let‘s face it, it was a long time ago!  However, I do fondly remember my dad reading to me every Christmas Eve without fail.  He would always read “The Night Before Christmas”.  One year Santa Claus left me a much treasured copy of “The Grinch Stole Christmas” and from that time on, I insisted he read that story too.  It became my absolute favorite!

 

       I have always been surrounded by tons of books.  I took great pleasure in turning the pages and staring captivated at the colorful pictures.  When I got old enough to read, I was the one reading the stories.  I lost myself within those pages and many of my games for pretend originated from those precious books.  I have always loved books.  As I grew older, books replaced the playmates and friends I didn’t have.  I filled my time with them.  At school, my friends often acted out the scenes from our favorite books.  I recall vividly playacting out the “Little House” books under the trees of my elementary school playground.

       How ironic that my favorite job was in a position ordering mountains of books for a local library.  Even when I reached adulthood I surrounded myself with books.  When I became pregnant, I began reading the books I was reading myself aloud to share with the baby that was growing inside me.  I have shared my love of books with my children from the very beginning.  They have both been entered into the summer reading programs from the precious age of one.  I would check out tons of books, and before bedtime I would read each and every one of them with my kids snuggled tight against me.  When I was pregnant for my son I was put on bed rest.  Since I couldn’t do much else, I read mountains of stories to my daughter that summer.  So many in fact she won top prize for most books read in the local library’s summer reading program.  I continued the tradition with my son.

         Every night before bed, we still gather on my bed and I read 3 stories.  If I am not too tired I read more.  Lately the winds of change are in the air.  My twelve year old has started to abandon story time with mommy more and more to retreat to her own room so she can read her own books.    Not only has my daughter retreated to read alone, but my son is starting to read a story to me.  We trade off reading so he can practice his skills.  One day they will both grow too old for mommy’s story time and I will be back to reading to myself at bedtime.  It seems I have spent my entire lifetime between the covers of a book getting to know the characters and becoming apart of their lives if only for a little while.  Until the day when neither of my kids want mommy to read bedtime stories, I will continue to read to them and enjoy the precious moments while they last until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Upset

         I get upset when the $hit hit’s the fan just like anyone else. I also tend to hyperventilate, break a blood vessel, and completely lose it before I calm down, let go, and let G0d.  Even stuff that shouldn’t upset me and should make me proud as a peacock throws me for a loop.   Last night I got a letter from my son’s school which informed me that he has been slated for high ability classes for next year.    I had an inkling of this because he has already been moved into high ability math classes.  He is doing math that seems unimaginable for a mere kindergartner to do.  It boggles my mind!

        What really got my panties in a bunch last night was the school included a form for “me” to fill out to give them a little more insight into what makes my son tick.  That is the moment I lost it.  My son has been a mystery to me since he was born.  Of my two children, he is the one that I am completely clueless about.  I have always wished I would have been provided with a user’s manual with him because he does things most of the time that defies imagination on all realms of the spectrum. 

        I went into my bedroom and sat on the bed with this questionnaire and cried as I looked through all the things they wanted to know. It was in multiple choice and essay question format.  I hyperventilated and tears came to my eyes.  How would I know???  I didn’t know I would have to take a test!  The teachers were around him all day, they nominated him, don’t they know??  I begged my daughter to help me choose the answers that best described her brother.  I felt like the worse mother in the world because I didn’t know the answers instantly and really had to think about it.

         Once I started really thinking about it the answers came.  I admit to having my head firmly planted up my a$$ most of the time but I still would have liked to have known that I knew my own son.  For example, I was convinced my son struggled to read.  He has never given me any indication that he could.  Yesterday my husband and I had lunch with my son at school and I asked his teacher about his reading problems.  She informed me that he didn’t have a problem that she knew of.  He likes mommy to read to him, not the other way around.  Last night I sat down and showed him flashcards that had lists of rhyming words.  To my amazement, not only did he know every single word, he didn’t even have to think about it!!  


   

      On the same page my daughter was upset because she had to miss gym class to be tested for high ability.  It was funny.  She was hoping she didn’t do to well on the test because she didn’t want to leave her friends.  I guess my kids are just to smart for their own good.  In that vein, my daughter is to much like me.  When I went to college the school made me take placement exams to know which classes to place me in.  I have always hated math.  It makes my brain tired.  It isn’t that I can’t do it, it is just I would rather not.  Evidently I scored a little to high and was mad to discover that I had managed to avoid calculus but got placed in algebra which was the next highest class.  Considering I only ever took freshmen algebra in high school, I was not amused.  Guess the apple doesn’t fall to far from the tree after all.

         By the morning after the storm had passed.  The form is filled out and has been sent back to the school.  I realized my son must be a lot smarter than he lets on.  I am so proud of my kids.  I would have been proud of them regardless.  When I really thought about it, it wasn't that hard to figure him out after all!  Life goes on once again until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.