Paint a Picture On Your Hand
Ryan ran up the stair excitedly,
He yelled, “Mum! Mum! I kissed Dad goodnight, and now I am ready for my bedtime reading.”
His mum was on his bed as he dashed into his room and hopped beside her.
She picked the book Wild Animals that was on his pillow, and together, they giggled and laughed through the funny pictures of animals in the book.
Next, she put the book back on the bookshelf and tucked him under his blanket.
Lights out, and his star’s nightlight switched on.
She laid down beside him with her head sharing his pillow, and listened for a daily recap of his day at daycare.
Ryan chattered about dinosaurs and trucks and his play scenarios with his two best friends, Andy and Bennett. He wove tales of good heroes and bad guys and ended with the incredible creation of marshmallows, strawberries and mustard they all made in the play kitchenette of the daycare.
Mum kissed him and said, “it’s time to send you off to dreamland with a song.”
She sang his favourite song of I love you my teddy bear, and gingerly stood up, adjusting his blanket .
As she reached the doorway, Ryan said softly, “Mum, I have one more thing to tell you before you leave.”
She walked back to his bed and knelt beside him,
“What is it,” she asked.
“Tomorrow, can I paint a picture on your hand?
“A picture? What picture?”
“I would like to paint a picture of you on your hand.”
His mum chuckled as she said, “That would be interesting. Why would you want to do that?
“I think you are the most amazing mum in the whole world, and I am so happy I get to look at you every day, if you had a picture of yourself on your hand, then you will see how amazing and beautiful you are every time you hold up your hand.”
“That’s so sweet, and I will look forward to that tomorrow; now close your eyes. I love you, Ryan”.
As she lay in bed looking at her palm, looking at the details of each palmar flexion crease, she remembered her visit to a palmist years ago and how each line was used to paint a picture of the beautiful life she had ahead of her. She had lots of joys and treasured moments with her husband and her son, and she was grateful for all that had happened regardless of how far it differed from the palm reading she had.
Her husband came into the room. He peeped at her head over the pillow and saw she was fast asleep, her hands on her chest. He tiptoed into the bathroom to brush his teeth and changed into his pyjamas. As he settled in beside her, he slowly edged the wig off her head and replaced it with her bonnet. She would like that. He thought to himself. He held her hands to his chest and listened to her breath slowly. He knew what was coming. It had been a fight for 11 months. he had told himself he would be strong, but now fear washed over him as he struggled not to tremble so as not to wake her.
Sirens filled the air. Ryan held on to Teddy as he listened to his father explain what was happening. He nodded as he stared at the door of his room while his father spoke. He didn’t say a word, simply hopping down from his bed and walking to his bookshelf.
He began to gather his colours and brushes.
He whispered to his father’s ears and pointed at his door.
When he walked into her room, he could smell her, so he smiled brightly, hurried to the bed, and stopped standing right next to her.
It was just like any other day. On her bedside was a pile of his books that she read to him in the morning.
He placed his colours and brushes on her bedstand and moved the books out the way.
Her hands were cold. Ryan looked up at his father, standing at the room door with tears rolling down his cheeks.
“It’s okay, daddy, I promised her. I made her a promise. She will love it.”
He looked back at her hands, rubbed them, and placed her hand on his cheeks.
He then placed her hand on her side and began to draw.
