Waiting for My Family

I like the new family. There are two little boys just like me. One of them is small, he can just barely crawl and the other is just a little older and taller. He is just the opposite of his brother and is constantly running. He ignores me, but I like him just the same. I watch them as they play with the plastic blocks in my room – or with his soldiers. A lot has changed in my room since I last slept here. There are new beds and the shelves are different and there are a lot of toys here, some I’ve never seen before.

         The toys I had were wooden with small wheels that I could roll around. They were animals like horses and cows and sheep. I also had a toy wagon that I could connect them to, so I could put the horse in front and place all the others in the back so he could pull the wagon and give them a ride. Each one also had a string that I could pull them around the house with. I could see the real animals from my window. They were in large pastures and there were lots of them and my father took care of them, spending hours feeding and watering them, and making sure they were safe. But now when I look out the window, the fields have gone away and there are now streets and houses there. I do remember the smell of the horses from the street and watching the streetlights being lit by the man with the ladder and a torch.

         I want to play with the boys while the play with their toys but I am afraid that the boys will get mad at me and won’t want to play here, so I just watch them. The little one looks at me and giggles as he tries to touch me, but I stay just out of reach. When I am in the room by myself, I quietly go over to the shelf where their toys are and reach for one. I just want to look at it and see what it feels like, but it always slips through my hands and lands on the floor making a loud noise. The mom comes running up and comes in the room, but I stand over by the fireplace where I can hide. It must be a good hiding place because she looks around and even right at me but doesn’t say anything. She reaches down and picks up the toy and places it back on the shelf before she leaves.

Sometimes the children get sick and I watch over them until they get better. I remember when I was sick, although I don’t remember when. I was lying in bed and kept trying to breathe, but it became harder and harder. I watched my mom cry and my dad stared at me with a very worried look. It was as if a ton of stones were on my chest and I could feel my lungs pop and crackle every time I breathed. I could feel water in my throat and it became harder and harder to breathe

         Then everything stopped.

         I could breathe again, but I couldn’t get up.

My memories from that are in pieces. I remember them changing my clothes followed by taking my picture with my parents and my sister, who was staring at me with a horrific look on her face. She couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t sit up, so they propped me up with a wooden stand. Afterwards, I was here alone.

         Well, not really alone. There have been so many children that have come through my room. I love to be with them, but as they grow older they grow distant, like they don’t see me anymore. When they start to ignore me, I stay closer to the fireplace. The warmth is long gone, in fact it is rarely lit, but I feel safe there. When I felt scared, I used to lie by the fire and watch the flames until I fell asleep.

         While the children are playing somewhere else in the house, I like staying here in my room. At times when they are gone from the house, I stroll over to the window and watch for them to come back. I don’t mind waiting. There is so much to look at. When I see them walking up the front sidewalk, the young one always glances up and sees me at the window and waves to me. I wave back and he smiles. The parents look up to, but they seem to be confused. I wave at them anyway even though they don’t wave back.

         What I also look forward to is the little dog that visits my room when the two boys are gone. He comes over to the fireplace where I sit and stares at me. He is very quiet and he sits there and watches me. When I reach out to him, he growls and sometimes barks, but he never tries to bite me. When I pull my hand back, he continues to watch me until the other people call him away. He is a good dog, he loves the children and is always on guard.

         Occasionally when I am sitting alone in the room by the fireplace, he comes over with a ball and drops it in front of me. He does it lots of times and it makes me laugh because he has forgotten that I can’t pick it up.

         I really miss my mom and dad. I remember my mom reading to me and the smell of my father’s pipe. I want to hug them and talk to them, and I can feel them wanting that too. Before, I could only feel that they were looking for me and couldn’t find me. Now I feel that they are much closer. My sister is closer also. They are very close. As I wait quietly by the fireplace, I’m very certain that they will be here to get me soon. Then we will be a family again.