KLOVER

KLOVER

     Smiling radiantly with her hair braids bobbing she ran to greet me with the  energetic enthusiasm of a four year old. In the same motion she jumped up in my arms. I always prepare for the moment and brace myself for it when I go to visit her at home on Saturdays. She said, “You are late. What took you so long.” I showed her the photographs taken recently that I had stopped to collect. Joyously she took them and went to get her Album to put them in herself. Reviewing and exclaiming about the other photographs as she flipped the pages. She looked up at me with her usual smiling face and pointed to a photograph and said, “I love this photo of my friends at my Birthday party.” Then she closed the Album, “Can we go outside and play?” l was waiting for it - our routine before lunch.

     She skipped down the steps to the back yard, pointed to her bike and said, “I will ride first.” I helped her on the seat and started to push her around the perimeter along the flower's edges. She whispered, “I have a secret and I cannot tell you.” I said, “A secret, about what?” She repeated, “It is a secret I cannot tell you.” I tried to coax her, “Tell me and I won’t tell anyone.” She ignored me. “Push me faster!” as if she did not hear my pleading words. She is a great pretender so, I said, “Are you playing a pretend game?” She shook her head and jumped off the bike walking quickly to her swing rope hanging from a low tree limb. I followed her, to ensure safety and  to swing slowly backwards and forwards. Each time the swing comes to me I remind her I can keep a secret too. She quietly swung to and fro as if she did not hear me. I walked away saying I was finished playing with her. She left the swing and ran towards me shouting, “Nana, can’t you understand that it is a secret and I am not supposed to tell?” I said, “You like pretend games so let’s play that I am your twin sister who keeps all secrets. Tell it to me, my beautiful sister.” She stopped suddenly, “But, I do not have a sister and you are my grandma.” There was no pretend game today - she was in reality mode. She asked me to lift her up to reach a branch hanging with flowers and pointed to the ones I should pick. I did it quietly and handed them to her. She gave me one, “This is for you.” I responded, “Thank you my ‘little sweetie pie’.” My usual endearing words for her. “I will be a big girl soon and not little anymore.” Always articulate with a flowing vocabulary of proper pronunciation. She admits she loves to play all the time but she also loves to talk endlessly. It is a wonder she can keep a secret - it must be pretend!

     We heard her mother calling, it was lunch time. She liked to sit at the kitchen table on the high chairs, which she gets to sit there only when I visit. Again, I helped her on the seat. She said, “Lunch looks delicious!” Tasting it and giving a thumbs up, “It is not spicy.” We ate in silence as she was warned that good table manners is not talking with food in her mouth. 

     After lunch we continued our routine of playing games. She chooses the game or activity and I am her playmate. This time I was her patient to examine and diagnose. I was reluctant. “No secret, no patient.” She replied, “O’kay you can watch me play.” She was adamant in silence as she made herself busy with the medical gadgets in her make-shift hospital. Feeling defeated, I watched her play. Eventually, she got me playing with her by asking my name and date of birth and the reason I came to see her ‘the Doctor’. I could not resist her smiling face and professional manner as she wrote in her book, asking me to spell my name. Then she examined my chest with her stethoscope and looked into my mouth with her flash light and took my body temperature. While she described the results and advised me, I was in good health. It was alright to go to school - and yes, she changed to a teacher with me being the student. She evaluated my knowledge with Numbers. What is the result of adding two similar numbers up to five? Which two colours give pink? Her voice in staccato mode was amazing as she taught the lessons. She ended the class by saying I did well. 

      Her compliment was an opportunity to reward me so I tried again. “Tell me your secret and I will do more numbers to ten.” She was surprised, “Can you do it to ten?”

I showed her in the notebook. She started counting her fingers which were insufficient and she went to get her beads. It made me regret showing her to use those beads and count, furthermore mentioning my extensive ability with numbers. She was so involved with counting that it was obvious the secret was forgotten and now difficult to jog her memory. I will have to wait again until she finished working the beads. She looked up at me watching her. “Nana, am I doing it right?” Now we have reversed places, I was the teacher. I checked her counts, “You are doing excellent. Do you need any help?” She replied, “No, I can do it myself.” A statement she has frequently used since two years of age. I leave her to do it. Thinking how to approach next and weaken her resistance. Then I knew! I said, “Klover, if you get only one wrong, I will take you for ice cream. She started counting and sorting faster. “I am finished!” We checked them together and all her answers were right!”

“A smart little girl.” Then retracted the ‘little’ before she corrected me. “Can we go for ice cream now?” I said, “Yes we can.” She put on her shoes and I got my purse. After, I strapped her seat and mine, I viewed her in the rear view mirror pondering my next move. She smiled, “Can you see me waving?” “Yes I can” I started the car and drove to the Drive Thru Best Flavours. A cream cone for her and a cup for me. I parked in a shaded area to eat in the car. Her eyes caught mine again in the mirror. “I will tell you the secret.” I eagerly said “Yes what is it? She said, “It is my birthday next Saturday. Don’t tell anyone.”

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