A little red lobster

I love planning visits to see my six grandchildren, all of whom live a distance from me.  Yet, the whole time I am visiting, I am dreading the thought of when we will eventually have to say, "Goodbye."

The toughest ones to visit, out of the six, are the three in Colorado. I don't get out there as often as I do to visit the three in North Carolina as those can be a road trip for a long weekend,to catch a recital, holiday or birthday. Colorado takes planning, money and time.

My sweet six-year-old, Nina, is the eldest of the three Colorado girls and when I do get to visit there, she too is very aware that my visit will eventually come to an end. She is always drawing me a picture to take home with me "so I won't forget her." Yeah, like I ever could. On my last visit, she created a crayon drawing that was markedly improved from my last visit. She is staying in the lines so much better now. At home I have a huge folder filled with drawings from all of my grandkids. I can't wait for the day when I either give them back, or at least let them view my collection.

On this visit, I had just returned from a cruise to Nova Scotia, and while there I brought her back a stuffed lobster that was holding onto a smaller lobster.  When I gave it to her, I told her I liked to think that I was the big lobster and she was the little one. She loved it and slept with it each night of my visit. She called it, "Meema," her name for me. 

The thing that warmed my heart, yet broke it in two, was when she handed me the stuffed toy and asked me to separate the two lobsters. She explained that I should take the baby lobster home with me to remind me of her and, in turn, she would keep the big one(aka Meema)so we could be with each other all the time. As hard as I tried, I couldn't hold back the tears. I grabbed  her and the lobsters and held on as tightly as I dared. Part of me wanted to keep the two lobsters together, as they were meant to be - like the way I wanted to be with her, however, she insisted, so we got the scissors and I snipped just two little threads to separate them. We each took "the other," and made believe that they were talking to each other - puppet-like.  We laughed on the outside, but I knew we were each a little sad on the inside. 

The next evening, I left on a red-eye flight to NY. I crept into each of the kid's rooms to kiss their foreheads and take in my last deep breath of them (until my next visit). 

When I entered Nina's room, there she was, with "me" by her side, sleeping like an angel. My kiss lingered a second longer.

Packed in my carry-on bag was "her."  

I sat on the plane and made a fool out of myself, sobbing deeply with a little red lobster pressed to my face. I didn't care who saw me or what they thought. I could only think of what I was leaving behind.

So, a little red lobster sits on my desk.  A constant reminder that my Nina is with me every day, not only in my heart, but right in front of me. A constant, tangible reminder.

Some day, I will tell her that she never had to give me anything to remind me of her. I could never forget her; she is burned in my mind, my heart and my soul.

That little red lobster is so darn cute, just like my Nina.

Thank you, Nina, for being "you.”

"REVISED” 11/5/2024

Last year, the two lobsters were sewn back together. Nina, then 16, was ready to put Meema lobster away for safe keeping. She knew I’d always visit and never forget her. 

Some photos from our visits: