tuck me in mommy

Life changes, just as do the seasons. Just like leaves on trees, just like people, just like the economy. Just like everything.
As a carefree seven-year-old, Lizzie Elian didn’t know all of that. She knew about the seasons and the leaves; her second grade class learned about it last week. But, unfortunately for her, she had no idea how easily a world can flip upside down. And all we can do for children like Lizzie is hope they can figure out how fast life can turn on you. . .
“Mommy, mommy!” cried Lizzie, her high-pitched squeal ringing through the whole two story house as she frantically searched for her mother.
“I’m in the kitchen, dear.” Mrs. Elian was a middle-aged woman with tired lines scarred permanently on her forehead. She was doing the dishes in the kitchen as her sturdily built daughter romped through the doorway.
“Are you gonna come tuck me in tonight?” Lizzie asked, her gaze falling upon her mother’s cat pin. Ever since she was a little girl, Lizzie had always admired the sparkly gems on the broach and she’d longed to reach out and run her hands over them.
“Honey, why wouldn’t I?”
Lizzie shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure, Mommy.”
“Lizzie, I’ve tucked you in every night of your life. It won’t change any time soon.”
“Okay.” And with that, Lizzie scampered happily out of the kitchen to go finish watching her favorite T.V. show, Elmer and the Glue, leaving her mother chuckling to herself.
That night Mrs. Elian walked up to Lizzie’s room and covered her with her Hello Kitty bedspread. Mrs. Elian had a very strong sense of déjà-vous, as she had completed the same task for so many previous nights. She gently kissed Lizzie’s forehead, turned out the lights, and padded quietly out of the room, leaving Lizzie to sleep undisturbed.
What has gotten into that girl? Mrs. Elian thought to herself. I always have tucked her in for bed. I wonder why she would think I’d discontinue doing so.
The next evening after dinner, Lizzie had a soccer game for her Mighty Kickers team. Her mother was at work so Mr. Elian took Lizzie and her two teammates to the game. They ended up winning, and Lizzie scored the winning goal. Afterwards, Lizzie, her father, and the two girls they gave rides to headed to the minivan and drove home.
Upon dropping Marissa and Sarah off, Mr. Elian and Lizzie started on their way back to their own house. As the neared the white abode, Lizzie saw an ambulance parked in the driveway, and her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach.
“Oh, God,” she heard her Dad breathe.
They both jumped out of the car, the summer night breeze pulling them back, warning them to stay away from the ambulance. There was an eeriness to the whole situation. Mr. Elian and Lizzie clambered up the front door steps just in time to run into the EMTs. Lizzie stood on tip-toe as they carried out the stretcher. She craned her neck to get a better view and she saw her mother laying motionless on top of it, her face placid and white.
By this time, Mr. Elian was in tears and he tried to compose himself long enough to talk to the head police officer. Lizzie didn’t catch much of the conversation; it felt like she was fighting a battle with gravity, the world slipping out from underneath her stance.
“. . .our best guess is that your wife had a stroke and, to put things into simple terms, the blood supply to her brain was cut off, causing critical cells to die. As of right now, since we have no vitals on her and her pulse has stopped, we are pronouncing her dead. We will be taking her body down to the hospital, though, and we can run an autopsy. . .”
Lizzie knew what that meant. No more Mommy. It was too much for one night. She dropped to the ground and started crying. How could this have happened? She wanted so badly for her mother to scoop her up and hold her, comforting her with her embrace. When she remembered that it wasn’t possible anymore, she sobbed harder.
“It looks like you’ve got your hands full with your little one,” the police officer told Mr. Elian solemnly. “I’m sorry for your loss. If you call the hospital, they will help you arrange the funeral.”
“O-okay.” Mr. Elian was speechless. He absent-mindedly thanked the police officer and the EMTs and he picked Lizzie up and took her inside.
The rest of the night was gloomy for both Lizzie and her father, and they didn’t talk much. There isn’t a whole lot to say when the grieving process is just beginning. They both sort of went on with things. Mr. Elian finished up some of his work and Lizzie bathed and got into her pajamas. Both of them were giving a lot of thought to what to make of the redoubtable situation.
After Lizzie slipped into her Spongebob pajamas, she lumbered down the steps, imprinting her mother’s biographical facts into her memory. The way her mother’s face opened around her smile, and the singsong tones in her voice, to the way she hurriedly shooed Lizzie out of the door in the morning for school. Lizzie bit her lip and blinked back tears, as she walked into the family room, where her father sat, expressionless. She sat down next to him, breaking him out of his reverie and he pulled her onto his lap.
“You know, Lizzie. It’ll be okay. I know you probably aren’t in any mood to talk right now, and I totally understand that; I know where you’re coming from. There’s a lot to contemplate when loved ones slip away from you, and it sometimes can make you feel sad. There’s nothing wrong with feeling sad, Lizzie. You know that, right?”
Lizzie nodded slightly and sniffed, showing she agreed.
“Good. I want to tell you that things are going to change around here, and everything we’ve been accustomed to might not be the same as it used to be when your mother was living.”
Mr. Elian paused to make sure Lizzie was listening, and he shifted beneath her weight.
“But, in the end, everything will be okay. If God didn’t think we could handle mommy being gone, then He wouldn’t have set this situation upon our shoulders.”
“I thought God loved us though, Daddy.”
“Lizzie, honey, He does. But we can survive just the two of us. I promise, everything will be fine. Now, go on, off to bed.”
Lizzie had never seen her father look so upset or frazzled, so she didn’t argue. For the first time in a long time she didn’t try to bargain for an extra fifteen minutes of T.V. time. She didn’t beg for someone to read her a story, nor did she sneak an extra cookie from the jar. She just plain and simply sauntered up the carpeted steps to her room.
She walked straight to her bed, sat down, and she thought. She thought about her mother, and her father, and her life. Life was going to change, she knew that much for sure. She made it through a whole ten minutes of thinking before she started crying. And when the tears came, she cried and cried. She cried so hard, she shook the bed. And when the waterworks stopped, and her moist cheeks dried, she decided on what she would do next.
“Daddy?” she called in a weak voice. “Would you please come tuck me in?”