The Storyteller

Today when Zoe jumped in the car at school pickup, she launched into a story practically gasping for air in between details. Her little mouth is clearly working much slower than her brain would like, but the words just trickle off of her tounge without barely waiting for the rest of her to catch up. Her big brother won a drawing in school for tokens earned, something he’s been waiting for since last year in first grade. She’s so proud of him that she doesn’t let him tell the story, and he doesn’t intervene.

He can tell that she is bursting with joy for him.

Their classrooms are right across the hall from each other. When the class lists were chosen and displayed the day before school started this year, I couldn’t believe that they would be so close to one another, despite being a year apart in grades. Every single day when I drop them off, I’m grateful that they’ll be so close and will know where each other is. In a world of uncertainty, it’s things like this that I hold on to tightly.

They were born 19 months apart, but the time between them feels incredibly insignificant with regard to their relationship. They are like twins, as thick as thieves. Always having each other’s backs, though often silently. I know that they protect and care for each other when I’m not around, and that to me is one of the best parts of motherhood.

There are nearly six years between Zoe and Evangeline, and I wonder every day what their relationship will be like.

Zoe is so protective and nurturing. Her role in the family changed when Evvie was born, but not just in the obvious way. She is always wanting to help, and I think that Evvie knows and feels that safety from her big sister as much as I do.

She reads to her sister, her little brother, her stuffed animals, anyone who will listen. Often the stories will be the ones printed, but she would much rather make up her own. Her imagination practically leaps on to the pages, adding itself between the lines because she just can’t help herself. It’s the kind of thing I wish I could capture but I know that these times are the precious ones left only to memory.

The very best kind.