“Daddy, I can’t sleep,” a tired voice drifted across the room.
“That’s okay, Michael, come and snuggle up with me,” I said making room for him on the sofa.
I covered him with a blanket and reached for the remote. We had a favourite DVD ready for such evenings.
“Cream together butter and sugar…” the woman on the television droned.
His eyelids grew heavy, “I miss mummy.”
I kissed him on the forehead, “I do too, sweetheart.”
There was something about the voice on the television that reminded him of his mother. Tomorrow would be the first Mother’s Day without her cheery voice greeting us.
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Ross's Writing Blog 
Judie McEwen
May 14, 2012 at 08:05
Awwww! This made my eyes water, Ross. My children loved to “make a snuggle,” as they called it.
Ross Mannell
May 14, 2012 at 10:49
Thanks for the comment.
Experiences with some children in my classes over many years taught me Mother’s Day can be sad for some. The story aimed at saying the love goes on as long as we have family to support us. It was a little sad but I think this is also part of life as long as there are snuggles. 🙂
Anita
May 14, 2012 at 15:07
Oh sad. But beautifully written.
Ross Mannell
May 14, 2012 at 18:19
Thanks for the comment.
I think the third stanza of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “The Rainy Day” speaks sense of sadness in our lives…
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
In our darkest days we must remember the sun is still shining. There is hope for Michael and his dad as they have each other.
laurie
May 15, 2012 at 07:14
Oh how sad. This brought a lump to my throat. Very unique take on the prompt. Well done. laurie
Ross Mannell
May 18, 2012 at 20:56
Thanks for the comment.
Having been a child when I lost my father, I understand the emptiness that can be hard to overcome when you’re little and don’t understand.
Judee
May 15, 2012 at 16:04
Sad but sweet in a tender loving way. And very timely, too. Makes me want to grab the child out of the story and give him a big motherly hug.
Ross Mannell
May 18, 2012 at 20:57
Thanks for the comment.
I know what you mean. I would want to give this child a hug also. 🙂
Ames
May 15, 2012 at 17:00
How sad. I just bought my granddaughter a record a story book. I want her to remember me and how much I love her always!~Ames
Ross Mannell
May 18, 2012 at 20:59
Thanks for the comment.
It’s the little things we do in life that can form fond memories for those we leave behind. The record a story book is a great idea. I hope it fills with treasured memories of times spent together.
annaandersson
May 17, 2012 at 18:40
Dear Ross,
Beautiful story.
Love the quote from Longfellow.
Right now, with this flu I caught, I feel like some rain is falling on me, but my mother tells me that my hearing will return after this ear infection.
Hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to just jot the quote into my quote collection. My father would have liked this one.
Take care.
Best wishes,
Anna
Anna’s SC wk 106 – Baking with…
Jenny Matlock
May 21, 2012 at 08:00
Darn.
Listening to Classical Gas in the background and I read your poignant little story.
Darn.
I even put mascara on today, which obviously was a mistake.
This was beautiful Ross.
Ross Mannell
May 28, 2012 at 09:25
Thanks for the comment.
I’ve also always liked Classical Gas.
I try to look at prompts in a different way to the expected, particularly if I can relate it to a child’s world. Years of teaching five to twelve year old children has rubbed off. 🙂