An Unexpected Gift

Since the weather is supposed to be awful beginning this evening and lasting through the weekend, I made a point of getting over to the nursing home.

Mom, as always, was seated in her wheelchair with a pillow behind her head.  We said hello and then I wheeled her down to the so-called lounge so I could park her wheelchair in the sun.  We spoke about inconsequentialities (the beautiful day, the weather in general, whatever thoughts slipped through her mind).  At one point, I leaned over from my chair and put my head on her shoulder.  She tipped her head against mine and her hand beat a gentle rhythm against my arm, a cadence familiar from childhood:  tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, over and over.

Then, all at once she began to softly sing “Happy Birthday.”  I held very still, listening, because you see, my birthday is tomorrow. I hadn’t said anything, yet in the ravaged waste of her mind something nudged her, prompting her to sing that particular song at this particular time.

It’s not over, ’til it’s over.


About Melissa Crandall

A million years ago--round-about the first Ice Age--I cut my writing teeth on fanzines and science fiction media tie-in novels. I'm happy to say that I've since branched out to include fantasy, horror, essays, and narrative nonfiction. This site will keep you up-to-date on my adventures in writing. I live in Connecticut with my husband--who frequently wonders what he got himself into by marrying a writer--two cats named Tuna and Gypsy, and a semi-neurotic Australian shepherd named Holly.
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3 Responses to An Unexpected Gift

  1. bluestempond says:

    That is really sweet!

  2. What a wonderful moment for you, Melissa! And Happy Birthday!

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