I got the call tonight that my grandmother probably won't make it through the night. My mind flooded back through my favorite memories of her and my grandfather. One of the fondest being her and papa singing "Little Sir Echo" to us as kids as we rambled up to camp in their motor home on weekends. I would request that song throughout the rest our lives together whenever I would see them or on special occasions. Gram would do the melody and papa would do the falsetto echo. It was ridiculous and delightful, and I will remember it always. The last time my grandma sang that song to me was on my birthday two years ago, only a couple days after my papa had passed. I remember trying to suck in every second of that moment with my limited brain power, and it must have worked because it's one of the first things that came to mind tonight.
Two nights ago I was going through bed time routine with Isaac. He was stalling and I was letting him. I watched him as he lay on his back, hands in the air, making shapes with his fingers above his head. I remember doing this exact thing at bed time when I was his age. It was one of those rare moments when I really felt like I could relate to Isaac as a child, and it was special. "I make a triangle. You make a heart, mommy." So I did. "Ok, it's say prayers time," I sing. "No, it's count my fingers time," he sings back. I had to laugh and count his fingers with him. I wanted to eat that moment up- sear it into my memory. Even the story he told that night about a stinky ghost being in his bed. Ok, especially that part. haha We eventually got to prayers and songs. We sing "You are my sunshine" and "Twinkle, twinkle" every night. I hope that someday he remembers these songs and moments as dearly as I remember "Little Sir Echo". And I will try to savor every stalling moment from now on.