Tomorrow's Another Day

...and that would be today. Yesterday is gone.

Last night I said goodnight to my Meme. I kissed her round cheeks and plump juicy lips. I stroked her hair and then I went to work. I prayed that she'd still be there when I got home from work.

I taught my class and then drove home singing worship and prayers at the top of my voice as I sped through the dark night. Hurry... hurry... hurry....

I come in through the garage and drop my bags by the door before practically running through the dark and silent house into Meme's room.

There she lay, on her belly with her bum all stuck up in the air like every perfect baby looks. Her jammies were red and white striped and I could see the glowing outline of the white parts, and her dark hair against the white sheets. Pink blankie was scrunched underneath her. I listened to her breathing, smelled the baby smell of her in the air, and said goodnight to all the angels gathered round her crib.

This morning I called her social worker and ripped him a new one for not having called me to tell me what was going on. I'm sure that the message I left on his voicemail sounded as much like a frantic jonesing mother whose child has been taken from her by DSS as it did anything else. It most likely did not sound like a mature woman calling in for some basic information.

Meme is here, safe, warm, a clippie in her curls and a donut in her pudgy fist. I buckled her tight in her car seat, I poured her juice, and I dressed her in the cutest outfit before dropping her off at daycare. I still did not yet know the outcome of court on Tuesday.

My phone rings and it's her case worker. Apologetic. Sincere. With good news. My Meme is mine still - another month she'll be here. She'll begin transitioning back home during May and by June should be ready to go back to her parents.

It's like knowing in advance the exact day you are going to die. At least I know how much longer I have to love her.