One Giant Step
Upstairs. She’s making her bed and I want to be where she is. I’m in the doorway to her bedroom. She looks up and sees me.
‘Come on then,’ she says. ‘I’m not coming to get you.’
I’m frustrated, upset, but she won’t come to me. I have to go to her. The space between us is enormous and I’m frightened. I can’t cross it. But she won’t come and get me. Then, suddenly, I’m toddling across the carpet. Her bed is in front of me. A safe place to grab a hold of. The gap closes and I’m there.
‘Well done!’ she smiles. ‘I knew you could do it.’ She picks me up, her eleven month-old daughter who has just taken her first unaided steps.
10 minute writing exercise on my earliest memory written in response to http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/05/writing-challenge-remember/