Enough to Miss Christmas

The difference in my relationship between my two wonderful children rests in how fragile Karen is and the attention she needs. There is less undoing with Timmy. He is a clean slate while Karen is a blackboard marked with scribbles only she can decipher and is loath to erase. When their mother died, Timmy was only three and a half. In a year or two, he'll have more memory years with me and Summerside than with his mother and the limitations of his Newton prison. Not so with Karen. She was past her tenth birthday when she lost her mother and her mind remains packed with god knows what details of that period. Nevertheless, I've taken on the job of guiding her metamorphosis and I report it is going well. I'm finding I too am growing richer from the chore.

Paul was apprehensive about his sibling's venture to the real world but he allowed me to oversee their emergence and is more than pleased with the results. Nor did he protest any of my suggestions including our getting a dog. We all discussed the matter like adults, the chores and responsibilities of pet ownership. Everyone solemnly agreed to do his or her share. I was afraid my husband might suggest buying the winner of the Westchester Kennel Club finals but he willingly joined a Saturday outing to the animal shelter where we unanimously chose a black and white multi-breed who picked his own name; Woof.

Woof was no longer a puppy, old enough to be house broken. He was delighted with the tour of his new quarters and fellow residents. He chose Timmy's room to bed down the first night, much to the delight of my young son. He spent time indoors or outdoors, content with either but especially excited when the children were close by.

I've made three . . . count them . . . three trips to visit my mother, two with just Karen and me and one with both of the children. Unfortunately, my mother failed to recognize us on any of the ventures though the attendant told us she had talked about the wedding and meeting Karen. Karen spoke politely and with affection to the woman she calls Grandma, in spite of a lack of response. She enthusiastically related everything we did together and all our plans for future family adventures.

Our "Love Chair" is in frequent use. Timmy adores it as a reading venue and I utilize it for discussions with Karen when I can corral her into its confines.

Paul's schedule is no less intense than we'd suspected but he devotes as much time as possible to his family, accompanying us on sea side hikes and visits to local attractions. The only bump on the road to normalcy was my suggestion of bikes for all of us. The three surprised me by their reluctance until I learned I was the only member of North family who knew how to ride!