Memory

Most people who know me know that I have a pretty good memory. My sister is the same way; sometimes we ask each other "Do you rememember...?" and bring up some totally obscure memory from 15+ years ago. For example, my sister told me she has a memory of being 4 years old and me telling her to hide in the closet and wait for me to get home from school. OK, so I was mean and somewhat weird, but the fact that she remembered that from almost 17 years ago is comical to me (though I wish she'd forget). In college when I'd be in the blessed Testing Center trying to remember an answer, I could tell you exactly what page the answer was on, and where it was on the page (and even what was all around it in terms of pictures and graphics. Some call that photographic). Unfortunately, I usually couldn't remember the answer. I pride myself on my memory. I love when people challenge me, claiming they never said something I could clearly recall them having said. I can usually describe where we were when it was said, what they were wearing, and other strange details. You get the point.

Two things. First of all, Emma is touching my heart in so many ways. She puts Tyler down for his nap and if she's still awake, is more than willing to put him to bed at night. Last week I was baby-sitting a little girl as naptime was looming, and I told Emma I had to get Tyler to bed. She told me she would take care of it and got right on it. I waited a minute, thinking she would get bored and Tyler would ask for me. But after about 10 minutes she walked out from his room and gave me a detailed report. "Tyler is asleep." I was mildly surprised (not totally, since Tyler is a good go-to-sleeper), and asked her how she did it. "I told him 4 stories and then sang him two songs. Then I kissed his cheek and made sure his blanket was on him. I told him to go to sleep and told him I loved him." The tenderness she showed for her brother touched me, seeing her find and enjoy the compassion and motherliness that I know is in her heart. Also, she jumped right to work to help me when she saw that I was busy. She now begs to put Tyler to bed, to read his books to him, and to hold his hand across the street. In a way, parts of me are being replaced. She even asked if she can be the mommy, and I can be the grandma. Right... she's a whole 18 months older than this child she wants him to be her own. I love the fact that she is such a mother on the inside, and it makes me wonder how on earth I got so lucky. I also wonder when this all came to be - it seems to have happened before my eyes.

Second, in terms of my "unfailing" memory...Because of all this reflecting on Emma, I've been remembering (or, trying to remember) the day she entered my life. While I remember the long labor (18 hours, starting at 7 pm), the 3 hours of pushing, and being told I'd have to have a c-section, I don't recall much about her birth. This really bothers me. I think the mix of body-and-mind-numbing drugs, in addition to having had no sleep and the rush into the operating room temporarily took my mind away from there in order to not totally lose it. I will spare the details - partly since I don't remember all of them - but the first real memory I have of my sweet Emma was about 3 hours later when I FINALLY got to hold her and look at her (Spencer had been whisked away with her to the nursery, and he had a hard time leaving me to be with her). That rush of love for a newborn was, for me, a bit delayed, but I will always remember that day and keep her beautiful newborn face in my mind. She was (and is) my little angel. Not only is she a great little mommy, but she just has the kindest heart and most mature temperament.

So...my fabulous memory failed me once, during the one time I probably wanted it most. However, remembering the countless times Emma has brought me incredible joy since then is almost as good. And I know that will only increase as I continue to watch her grow and age. She's only 4 after all. I have tons and tons of other great memories of her stored away. And Tyler will have lots of great memories of his big sis too.

I love you Emma. Please don't grow up too fast.