Thursday, April 20, 2017
Eight years ago today, this tiny bundle of a baby sat cradled in my arms while her mother was undergoing some kind of emergency procedure upstairs. We were alone in a bare, square-shaped room, where I sat in the corner, away from the door and the sunlight pouring in from the window. For thirty whole minutes she lay there, staring up at me in silence. I remember the first words I spoke to her.
Later in the day, someone was barking a list of orders to me of all the things I need to do, all the things I need to buy and prepare for… at some stage she says “When she’s eight, you’ll need to…”
And all I could think at the time was “EIGHT? Lady, I can barely even figure out what I’m meant to do about dinner, let alone eight years from now.”
And yet here we are.
It was so fast.