Ballerinas in the Moonlight

“Go back to bed, Miss Amelia darling. You know the rules.”

“Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m your aide,” the stranger said. “Now let’s get you back into bed under your blanket. It’s going to be freezing tonight. Do you have your woolen socks on?”

I looked down at my feet. Such ugly socks I had on. Why?

“These socks are ugly,” I told the strange lady while getting into bed.

She laughed. “Are you going out tonight? Perhaps dancing? The socks are fine. You’ll be nice and warm.” She pulled the blanket over me and gave it a pat. “Goodnight, Miss Amelia.”

“Goodnight, lady,” I answered as the light went out.

***

I lay in the room wide awake. Why did that lady put me to bed so early? It wasn’t even dark out. I looked around the room. Where was I? The painting of the weeping willow tree looked familiar, but the rest of the room was foreign. 

I sat up listening to the voices coming from the other room. Shifting my legs over the side of the bed, I was careful to avoid the railing. What was it doing there anyway? I didn’t have a baby, did I? I looked around and saw a bag of diapers in the corner of the room. Maybe there was a baby? I took out a diaper and it was so big it made me laugh. There must be the biggest baby in the world there somewhere. I put my hand over my mouth so no one would hear me laughing. I didn’t want to get sent back to bed. I hung my head. I was wearing such ugly socks. Why?

Crossing the room, I opened the blinds a tiny bit just enough to peek outside. She put me to bed in the middle of the day, she thinks she’s so smart but she’s not. It’s not even dark out. 

OOOHHH it’s snowing! Big flakes of snow falling from the bright sky. I looked up to see the moon shining. I smiled. I always loved the snow, going out to build a snowman in the yard with my mother. Where was my mother? I should go find her and we can build a snowman together.

***

“She’s so confused lately, worse than ever before.” Who was that lady talking to? Was there someone else in the house? “She’s going to be 93 soon, bless her heart.” The voice continued. 

It didn’t matter who she was talking to. I had better things to do than worry about that strange lady.

***

“It’s so pretty out!” I thought, laughing with delight. The snowflakes were dancing in the night sky, twirling and swirling like ballerinas in the spotlight of the moon. I looked up letting the little dancers land on my cheeks and in my hair. 

It was cold, so very cold, I never knew it could be so cold outside. Good thing I was wearing my warmest pajamas instead of a nightgown tonight. That was a smart choice. Mommy always said I made smart choices.

“Mommy?” I called out. Weren’t we going to make a snowman together? “Mommy, where are you?” Maybe she was helping my sister with her homework. She’ll be out soon. I could get started by myself.

I walked down the street looking for the perfect place to build a snowman. I needed a lot of snow and a lot of room! 

Ouch, my feet were so cold, and they hurt so much. I looked down. Where were my boots? I was only wearing socks and they were very ugly socks. Why?

Maybe I should go home. 

***

“Miss Amelia! Where are you?” Olivia panicked, feeling the rush of cold air entering the house through the open front door. She ran into the bedroom seeing the empty bed and called out again, “Miss Amelia, answer me. Where are you?” 

She had wandered away before but never in the middle of the night. And never in a snow storm. Olivia looked into the closet and her heart sank. 

***

The grass was gone, under the blanket of snow. “Goodnight grass, you’re all tucked in now. Sleep tight,” I said, just like the lady always said to me when I was under my blanket. I still hadn’t seen my mother anywhere, but she will come out soon looking for me. I bet she was making some hot cocoa to warm my fingers and toes. I looked down at my feet buried under the snow, they disappeared. No more ugly socks for me!

I wanted to sing and dance in the snow like the little ballerinas in the sky. I spread my arms out and tried to twirl, my feet getting caught up in the piling snow. 

I fell down. Into the snow. It didn’t hurt at all, not like when I fell out of bed onto the hard floor. That hurt a lot. I remembered that the lady put the bedrail on after that so I wouldn’t fall out of bed again. I thought there was a baby in the house, that was silly. I felt sad all of a sudden. Was I the baby? 

I looked up at the moon watching the ballerinas dance down upon me. 

***

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“I can’t find Miss Amelia. She’s elderly with dementia and she must have left the house about an hour or so ago. I can’t find her anywhere and she left without her coat or boots,” she sobbed into the phone.

“Calm down. We’re on our way.”

***

The shouting woke me up. What was the commotion all about? 

“Miss Amelia! Where are you? Please answer me, Miss Amelia.” The voice of the lady was joined by new voices, many voices shouting over each other. Such a fuss they were making. 

I felt so heavy, the snow was piling on top of me like sand at the beach where my brother buried me. I could see him with his red pail and shovel, sand stuck to his skin, hair still damp from the swim. My mother was getting our lunch ready for the picnic, spreading out the red plaid blanket, putting a shoe on each corner so it didn’t blow away.  There was always just a little bit of sand in our sandwiches that she brought to the beach. I laughed. Maybe that was where they got the name sandwich. I had never thought of that before. The ocean roared in my ears, the waves lapping the shore.

***

And then, a moment of perfect clarity. I lay on my back knowing that I was freezing to death. I thought of my children and grandchildren who had been coming to visit looking so sad and drained, the joy stolen from their faces. 

The pieces that had been shifting about haphazardly like in a kaleidoscope fell into place displaying the full picture. I had been sick for years, suffering, struggling, noncomprehending my sickness. My husband and children taking turns caring for me, completing the circle of life. I cried at the realization of my daughter bathing me carefully like I had done for her once upon a time. How often did her teardrops fall, mixing into the water?

“Why do you cry, little girl?” I had questioned her repeatedly, not recognizing her, not understanding her grief. “How old are you?” I continued the interrogation. “How old do you think?” She tried to challenge me, I realized, get my wheels turning, hoping I could figure it out. “Twelve,” I had answered the little girl of mine who was all grown with children of her own. 

The grandchildren, my pride and joy, sitting with me telling me stories I could not comprehend. What fine compassionate men they had become.   

My husband? Where was he? The last puzzle piece still missing, perhaps too painful for the moment. He had kept his promise to keep me at home. I saw in my mind’s eye a lucid moment from years ago holding his hands, begging him not to send me away, making him say the words out loud.

I heard the shouting getting closer and closer. They were looking for me. I was sorry for how they would find me, but my affairs were in order, the letters written years ago, the words perfectly expressed. My life lived so well, the joy outweighing the hardship.

They were getting closer. 

***

“Miss Amelia, oh my ...…. “

***

“Amy,” my husband greeted me in the garden, under the weeping willow tree where we had brought picnic lunches and easels many years ago.

“Did you see how wonderfully the children took care of me?” I was in awe of them.

“Yes, Amy. They made me very proud.”

“Will they be okay without us?”

“We will continue to guide them.”

“Can we go see my mother now?”

“Yes, my love. She is waiting.”