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Time |
Songfic 3 of Trilogy |
Song Title: Slipping Through My Fingers
Written by: Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As I turned to the next page, I felt the warmth of a familiar hand on my shoulder.
"Not coming to bed yet?" John asked.
I sighed, tilting the heavy book in my lap upwards slightly so he could see. "Remember this day? She was all excited. A ball of energy. I'm the one that was a nervous wreck." My finger traced the edge of the photo, gliding over the clear protective sheet.
Though I knew he was tired, John humoured me, leaning across the top of the couch from his vantage point behind me. His hand continued to rest on my shoulder; a comforting pressure.
"Her first day of school. Of course I remember," he said quietly.
Though I didn't turn to look at him, I could hear the smile in his voice. We became silent, both lost for a moment in the memory of taking Katie to school that day. She'd been fearless, even back then. While other children had cried and clung to their parents, Katie had marched around the schoolyard as if she owned the place. And when the teachers had started filing the youngsters into line, Katie had brightly bid goodbye to her parents, insistent that they needn't accompany her into the school.
The picture we were re-living had been taken by John in front of the school's red brick building. Katie was all smiles and laughter, with one missing front tooth. Her long, dark hair was done up in pigtails and a brand new knapsack was proudly slung on her back.
I squinted more closely at the snapshot, but it hadn't been able to capture the colour of her eyes. They are green, like mine; always dancing with mischief.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I continued to pore over the album until my sight became bleary. John had long ago gone to bed and it was time I did the same. After making sure all locks were secure around the house, I turned off the lights and crept upstairs.
In front of her closed door, I paused, remembering how I used to check in on her in the middle of the night; pulling up blankets that had been kicked aside and tucking them around her again, returning the bear that had fallen to the floor by her side, placing a light hand on her forehead to check for an unexpected fever.
When Katie had been young, we'd been extremely close. John had continued his work at County and I'd stayed home; a full-time mother. It shamed me now to think I used to scoff at mothers who chose not to work. That had not been my initial plan. I had intended to take a leave for perhaps two or three years at the most. Then I was going to take advantage of the day-care at County and return to work. But that hadn't happened. Instead, I'd stayed at home until shortly before Katie had started highschool.
That's when our relationship had begun to change. She'd made new friends and had spent most of her free time outside of the house. I'd started working again, but at a private clinic this time to keep regular hours. This had also been the period when Katie had become more serious about dance. She'd always been athletic and graceful, and had started taking dance lessons at age eight. Her teachers had always told me she was a natural and could possibly make a career out of it. Make a career out of dancing? This was a concept I couldn't quite grasp. I wanted the best for Katie, and this meant a practical choice of studies in which she could build a solid career. It was a lofty and noble goal to succeed as an artist, but such an unstable life. This was not what I wanted for my daughter.
John was another story. He had painful memories of defying family wishes to become a doctor and thus, believed very strongly that Katie had the right to choose her own path. In the past couple of years, as she'd stood firm in her decision to pursue her dreams, her father had been her main support. Even today, while part of me was immensely proud of her, the pessimistic side of me worried about her future. Although she's almost a grown woman, I still wanted to shield her from the disappointments and heartache.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast-table
Barely awake I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone there's that old melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go?
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why I just don't know
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I closed the cover of another photo album. This one contained pictures of my life, when I had been young; the time I'd spent in South America and Africa. Places that I'd longed to return to someday - perhaps taking Katie with me to let her experience my roots. Somehow, it had just never happened.
In my younger days, I'd also had dreams of my own; wanting to travel the world, immerse myself in different cultures. But life had a way of interfering with dreams and some things just hadn't turned out the way I'd planned. Mind you, I wasn't complaining. I loved my life; my family, home and work. Marrying John was the best decision I'd ever made. It was only the thought of Katie moving away that made me so wistful and focused on the past.
Staring at the remains of our morning meal, my stomach churned uneasily. John had said his goodbyes to Katie yesterday and he'd left for work early this morning, before anyone else had awoken. Because I'd stayed up so late last night, I'd slept in. Katie had already started making breakfast when I'd ventured downstairs.
After eating, I'd made the fatal error of asking her one last time if she'd reconsider going to New York. She'd blown up at me, stating that I would never understand or respect her desire to become a professional dancer. Although I was supposed to drive her to the airport, she'd angrily told me that she would rather take a cab.
Sitting here alone now, I tried to hold back my tears. What was wrong with me? Kathryn Carter was my only child. We'd wanted more, but I'd had a difficult birth and all the doctors had recommended I have no more children. While John and I had been sorely disappointed, we'd lavished all our love and attention on our one precious gift.
I couldn't let Katie leave like this; angry and resentful. I had to do something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I finally spotted her, head bowed and flipping through a magazine. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, a little fatigued from my brisk walk throughout the airport terminal. I was relieved she hadn't boarded the plane yet. Judging by the time, I would have thought they'd have started boarding passengers by now.
"Hi Katie," I breathed.
Startled, she looked up at me, eyes wide. "Mom!"
I laughed a little, though more from slight nervousness than humour. "Surprised?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Shouldn't you be on the plane by now?"
She made a face. "Yeah, the flight's been delayed for a little bit." After hesitating, she patted the seat cushion next to her. "You might as well sit. It could be a while."
I took her advice, half turning in the seat so I was facing her. Bending down, she folded the magazine and placed it in the leather knapsack at her feet. As she slowly straightened, her gaze darted towards me and I could read the wariness in them. She was expecting another lecture.
"I'm not going to lecture you," I said quietly.
With eyebrows lifted in an expression of disbelief, she reminded me of her father. "Really? That's all you've been doing for the past three months."
It was true. Since the time she'd been accepted into the School for the Performing Arts, I'd been trying to dissuade her from going. But now that she was literally on her way, I had to give her my blessing.
"You're right," I admitted. "And you know the reasons why..."
"We've been over this a hundred times," Katie interrupted, the spark of annoyance in her voice again. "I have to give this a try. I might fall flat on my face and fail miserably, but I'm going to try anyway."
"I know. I just worry about you...maybe too much, sometimes."
"Mom..."
"Just let me finish, please." I paused and Katie remained silent, waiting for me to continue. I began speaking, not sure of what was going to come out of my mouth. I only knew I was speaking from the heart. "I want you to know that I'm proud of you. So very proud of you. I look at you now, the lovely young woman you've become, and I don't know where the time has gone. It was only yesterday you were a little girl, dancing around the kitchen or flying across the yard. Whenever we went to a dance recital, I could hardly believe it was you up on that stage, so elegant...so beautiful. You took my breath away every time." I had to stop for a moment, blinking away my tears to compose myself.
"Oh, Mom..." Katie murmured, her tone husky.
"You have to try," I continued. "I know this. And I admire you so much for having the courage to do it. I thought I was trying to protect you by telling you not to go, but I was only being selfish. Trying to keep you close to me, even though I knew you'd fly away eventually. It was wrong of me and I'm sorry."
Without a word, Katie put her arms around me and we held each other tightly, the occasional sniffle emanating from both of us. When she finally pulled back, I could see the tracks of wetness running down her smooth cheeks. "I'm sorry too," she said softly. "I never realized how difficult this is for you."
"Well, I'm just being silly," I said, suddenly feeling foolish. The blame could be pinned on my advancing age. I wouldn't have reacted like this twenty years ago.
"You, silly? Never," Katie said solemnly. Staring at each other, we both began to laugh.
We talked a little more and all too soon, her flight was called. Katie stood, slipping the straps of the knapsack over her arms. I walked with her as far as I could and once more, we embraced. Before she disappeared from my sight entirely, she stopped and turned once more, smiling at me with a little wave. I waved back and she was gone.
My last image of her was of a tall and graceful young woman, excited to be embarking on a new phase of her life. But part of me would always think of her as the little girl with pigtails and the enchanting laugh.
My Katie.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers...
Completed October 2000
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