Holding onto Faith
Do you remember how we used to cuddle together in your bed, and you'd read me stories? And when you got scared because the monsters were about to attack from beneath the bed, I used to go and fight them off?
Remember that time when we climbed the oak tree in New Zealand? That was the best! We saw the whole lake and all the mountains stretched out before us, like little dolls, ours for the conquering.
Remember how in preschool we used to make the best artworks? Everyone was so jealous of us. And remember how we used to push each other on the swing? You always went higher than me.
Remember that time when we were at Grandma's and she slapped your face because you didn't want the rest of your cauliflower? We got sent to your room and you started crying, but I sang you my lullaby to make you feel better? Then we made that fortress using all the pillows and doonas we could find and read by torchlight until the stars starting singing.
Remember that day we spent at the beach, making sand castles and exploring rockpools and racing along the beach? You were so fast along the sand, but I beat you twice. Then we dug out a trench and played war games until the sun made the hills its grave.
Remember how on your first day of big school the teacher asked you to stand up and say your name in front of everyone? You didn't want to, but you did. You were so brave. I could never have done that.
Remember when you started riding your bike? At first, it was scary, but soon you were off, gliding down the street, much faster than me. One time you fell off and grazed your knee, but you didn't cry. You just got back up.
Remember how we were in the car, driving to Melbourne when the other car on the freeway went out of control and smashed into us? I was so afraid; afraid you wouldn't wake up. You got taken away in this loud van with flashing lights on the top. I held your hand the whole way.
Remember when you woke up? You found out that Mummy and Daddy were gone, but you seemed to have forgotten me. I was still there. I followed you around, learnt how to operate your wheelchair and everything, but you never let me push it for you. You moved into that horrible orphanage, and now you never smile anymore.
Faith, I'm holding onto you.
Are you holding onto me?