"Many more boys and men will love you in this lifetime, Helen." She is aware of how trite this sounds, how like a fortune cookie, but this doesn't lessen the truth behind the words. Her daughter is beautiful, will grow more beautiful still, and it is apparent from her first attempt that love will come easily, will float over her bones like a garment she has always been meant to wear.
Page 83
She props herself up on her elbows and looks at Helen, who is sleeping beside her. Her daughter's face is fifteen years old. There is a small patch of red on her chin, but otherwise all the planes are smooth. Strange, Kathy thinks, how we can pass down something like a face, the colour of skin and the shape of bones beneath, the green of eyes and the curve of lips. But there it is, the replica, almost, of herself at age fifteen, and she touches Helen's cheek, carefully so as not to wake her, and knows she loves this likeness of her face, this person resting beneath, more than she has ever loved herself.
Page 84
In the spirit of all things mother-related, I hope you are all having a wonderfully serene day.
I love you, Mum!
No comments:
Post a Comment