So I have a kindle that’s ancient.
It’s pretty much as old as my first-born child (she’s in 1st grade) and in the world of technology, that’s comparable to still using a kitchen wall phone with a 12-foot long curly cord instead of an iphone.
So I love my kindle because… when my Mom died I sort of just took on her kindle and her kindle case. I discarded my orange case with the little built-in read-at-night-light and started using her blue case with the little built-in read-at-night-light. There’s something strangely comforting about staying up late at night and having my hands touch the same leather cover as she did. Reading under the same little light that she used…
We, my Mom and I, love to read.
When I travel, though – I pack the blue case in my checked luggage and throw my old, 2010 or 2011 kindle in my carry-on or purse.
I REFUSE to buy a new kindle, lest I can’t use that cover that belonged to my Mom.
Well, when we flew back to Cabo from the States last Sunday it appears that I did what many-a-traveler does: I left my kindle in the back of a seatback pocket on one of the flights.
If you know me, you know I love technology. I love new phones, new iPads, new computers, new everything. I love updating my apps. I love software updates.
But a new kindle means a new cover and that means… well, it means that my Mom is further away from me.
(When we lose people, we hang on to the most random of things. These things make them feel closer to us… our brain understands that they’re gone… but there’s something wonderfully comforting about being near something that was near her.)
So I reported the circa 2010 kindle missing on the American Airlines website. Which, assumedly, is as helpful as standing on my front porch and yelling, in English, “Hey? Has anyone seen my kindle? Oh? No? Ok.”
So I’m totally not expecting to get that back.
So, Lila, my sweet six-year-old, saw the empty blue kindle case that once belonged to her Nana sitting on my bed and said, “Oh no, Mommy. Here’s the case. You didn’t lose your kindle.”
Then I explained, “Nope – that’s just the case. I lost my kindle. I’m pretty sure I left it on the plane accidentally. I’m kind of sad about it… because I liked using Nana’s case with my kindle. And I can’t really buy another one like the one I had. And remember? You put stickers all over it, too.”
She was silent.
We sat there for a few minutes, I continued doing what I was doing…
…then all of a sudden…
…I hear the loudest cry.
Lila is literally full-on, very upset, crying.
“Lila, what’s wrong? Are you ok? What happened?”
I open my arms, she falls into my chest and says, “Oh Mommy, I just want you to be happy…”
That sweet, empathetic, kind child…
I explained to her that I absolutely am still happy. That it’s just a thing. That my Mom is in my heart; not in that kindle situation. It’s no big deal at all. But I told her that I appreciated her tears.
I LOVE HER SO MUCH.
That same kid lost her front tooth this week, too.
It was loose for about 3 months. (I’m not lying. She.does.not.rush.anything.) She waited until it finally just jumped out of her mouth. It literally was like, “I’m going to hop on this apple slice and get out of dodge. I CANNOT BE IN HERE ONE SECOND LONGER.”
She doesn’t think it’s so adorable, though. “Mommy, I think I look kind of weird…”
Weird is beautiful, sweet girl.
And also this week?
She was awarded a certificate from the librarian at her school. They gave it to her during the book fair, along with about 6 or so other kids. It was adorable. It was like a little “ceremony” with just the kids, their parents and a few other people.
Apparently she goes into the library every day after she eats lunch to chat, read, ask questions and “rent” books for her and her baby sister.
You have no idea how much pride this certificate inspired.
She loves books.
She can’t wait until she can get her own kindle.
(And so it continues.)
Sweet Lila, oh man. I love her.