Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 700.

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Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 700
by Angharad
  
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When we got home, Stella was interested to hear how we got on. I explained how we’d met the unfortunate father of the little girl and his double tragedy with his wife.

“So what did you volunteer?”

“I said I would go and see Daisy every other day, to give him some breathing space. The poor man was at his wit’s end.”

“Gonna do some of your magic healing are you?” Stella was holding Puddin’, “ ’Cos it certainly helped you, little lady, didn’t it?”

“I wasn’t thinking of that at all, you know I don’t believe any of it. On the other hand if my presence helps Daisy to, how shall I say, blossom? then good for her.”

“That was a dreadful pun, Cathy–Daisy blossom, oh God, that’s awful.”

“No worse than some of yours, missus.”

“Ooh, that’s a lie, I deny it all. Did you hear what that horrible woman said about your mother, Puddie?” The baby gurgled at all Stella’s antics, and Mima laughed, which made Puddin’ start to giggle, so Mima did as well. Then Puddin’ was sick and I didn’t see what happened next because I went to get a cloth from the kitchen.

Tom brought the girls home from school and I explained that I was going to be visiting Daisy on a regular basis, so we’d have to organise a rota to collect them in the afternoons. They didn’t seem to mind and Tom, although I suspect he had reservations, agreed to go along with it.

When I spoke to him later, his main concern was that I was giving time to someone who’d nearly killed me. I argued that neither Paul nor Daisy had caused the accident nor, to some extent, had Maria. Besides, he was a fine one to talk about helping people, as I was his principal waif and stray and was only following in his footsteps. He gave up after that.

I discussed with Trish and Livvie the sort of stories I should take with me. I had already collected a couple to use, but they disappeared and came back with a handful each. I’m not sure how long they thought I was going to visit, but it seemed longer than I had in mind–which was a temporary thing to give Paul a chance for respite, maybe a few weeks.

“Are you going to zap, Daisy?” asked Trish.

“Zap Daisy? What, like plug her into the mains?”

“No, zap her with your blue light?”

“Not particularly, Trish, you know I don’t believe in all that. I think your eyes were playing tricks on you.”

“If you say so, Mummy.” She smiled and walked away. Then ten minutes later she came back with Livvie. “Can we come in to meet Daisy, one day, Mummy?”

“Perhaps; we’ll have to see. Thank you for loaning me all these books.” I looked at the pile before me. Simon, Stella, Tom and I all bought them books on a regular basis, including one day Simon came home with a large box of them. A woman from work was getting rid of them and she’d learned about us fostering children and gave him the books. Her children were significantly older. The books were in pristine condition, something which I’d encouraged in Mima and Trish–the respect for books. Livvie had taken to the regime very quickly.

The day I went to see Daisy, which was the day following my original visit to her, and which I’d agreed with Paul, I collected a couple of books and some sweeties, and a few other bits and pieces, like soap and shampoo, a hair brush and comb, and a small teddy bear I got at a toy shop en route.

I arrived just after lunch. She was snoozing and from the tray on her bedside table, she didn’t appear to have eaten very much. She’d been moved to paediatrics, although she was still under the care of the orthopods and in particular the spinal surgeon. So it was a complicated mix. However, when I walked on to the ward, the sister there recognised me.

“Lady Catherine, how nice to see you again, how are Mima and Trish–it was Trish, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was Trish and they are both fine, thank you.”

“What are you doing here, then?”

“I’ve come to visit Daisy–give her dad a break.”

“She only came down this morning, from orthopaedics. Poor little mite, are you going to be able to help her walk again, like the others?”

“If that happens, wonderful, but I came in primarily to try and keep her spirits up, given how her mum is and how busy her dad is.”

“Oh, okay. You found her bed then?”

“Yes, the other ward directed me here.”

“Have a seat with her, would you like me to wake her?”

“No, I’m sure rest is important to her, it supposedly helps healing too, doesn’t it?”

“So they say, I’ll bring you round a cuppa, later.” With that, the ward sister was gone, bustling around the ward checking on her patients and the other nurses she had working with her.

I seated myself in the chair alongside the bed and chose which story I wanted to read to Daisy. It was The Wind in the Willows, and I scanned through the first few pages.

I was sitting reading when I became aware of something watching me. I glanced at Daisy and her big green eyes were watching me carefully. “Hello, Daisy,” I smiled at her. She looked at me and tears filled her eyes. “Hey, I thought we had a deal?”

“I hoped my daddy would be sitting there when I woke up.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry it’s just me, but I hope I can help you to feel a bit better. I’ve brought you a few things.” I handed her the bag of goodies and she smiled as she unpacked brushes and hair bands, shampoo and finally the sweets and teddy bear.

“Thank you, um, what do I call you?”

“My name is Catherine, how about Cathy?”

“Can I call you, Auntie Cathy? because I don’t have any aunties.”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course you can. I’d feel very privileged to be your honorary auntie.”

We chatted for a little while and I told her about my three girls. I also told her that the two older ones wanted to meet her and had sorted through a pile of books for her. She wanted to meet them, too. So I agreed I’d bring them in one weekend, unless she recovered before then.

She began to cry again. When I asked her what was the matter, she said, “Auntie Cathy, they said I could be in here for ages.”

“We’ll see, sometimes the doctors are wrong and people get better quicker than they think.”

“And sometimes they die,” she said back to me. I felt myself get hot and bothered and a bit lost for words.

“That isn’t going to happen to you, sweetheart, we have some good doctors here.”

“What about my mummy? Is she going to die?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t know. All I do know is that she’s in the best place she can be for now, with some very clever doctors. All we can do is hope and pray for her.”

“Will you pray with me, Auntie Cathy?” Why do kids do this–undress you as a fraud in front of the whole world. What could I say?

“Of course I will, what would you like to say?”

She put her hands together and closed her eyes, “Jesus, please help my mummy, who is in Southampton hospital, her name is Maria and she is very ill. I know you can make her better, please do it for me. My name is Daisy, thank you, Amen.”

I felt my stomach flip and my throat formed a lump the size of a grapefruit. I know I had tears in my eyes, and although I’m an unbeliever, her innocence was touching. I said, “Amen,” with her and she smiled at me.

“Do you think it will help, Auntie Cathy? My prayer, I mean?”

“I’m sure it will, Daisy. I mean how could Jesus turn down a request like that? But these things often take some time to happen, so don’t expect miracles to happen suddenly, it might take some time.” I didn’t want to disillusion her if things didn’t go as she wanted. If her faith helped her, who was I to tell her she was wrong?

She held out her hand to me and I grasped it and held it for the rest of my stay, or until the cup of tea arrived. “Lady Catherine, sugar?” asked the Sister.

“No thanks,” I accepted the tea and was glad to drink it, my throat was quite dry. I helped Daisy drink her cold drink, with a straw.

“Lady Catherine? Are you a princess or something?” asked Daisy looking suspiciously at me.

“No, they all seem to call me Lady Catherine, because my fiancé is a lord; so when we marry I shall become Lady Catherine. Actually, I prefer Auntie Cathy.” She smirked and laughed with me.

“When you get married, can I be a bridesmaid, I’ve never been a bridesmaid before?”

“You can indeed.”

“If I ever get out of this place?”

“In which case, we’ll wait until you do.”

“You’ll wait for me, to walk again?”

“I hope you’ll walk again and soon, but I’ll certainly hold the wedding until you are able to come and be one of my bridesmaids. I promise, is that good enough?”

“Oh yes, you wait until Daddy comes in tomorrow, I can’t wait to tell him.”

“I have to go now, Daisy, but I’ll call in again in a couple of days. If I leave you the book, can you read it by yourself?”

She nodded and tears began to run down her cheeks. "Hey, don’t cry, a couple of hours ago, you weren’t sure you wanted me to be here. Now you need a rest, so have a little snooze and I’m sure you’ll feel better. Dream about being a bridesmaid.”

I kissed her goodbye and waved as I left the ward. The sister accosted me as I went. “That child’s spirits have soared since you came, do you know that?”

“All part of the service, sister.”

“I don’t know what you do to the children you help, but I wish we could bottle it and give it on prescription.”

I shrugged and left, it’s all just a placebo effect, why can’t they see it for what it is?

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Comments

Just accept it Cathy

Everyone around you sees the magic you bring to those in need. Whether it's a blue light or just a comforting word and a hand to hold, you help them without holding back. I'm surprised little Daisy didn't ask if you were an angel.

Of course does Cathy remember that she just committed to another bridesmaid? I found that kind of funny but so Cathy. So how many bridesmaids will she have? Certainly Stella, Daisy, Trish, Livvie? What about Mima? That's getting to be a big wedding party but I guess for a princess it's ok.

Here we go again ...

Cathy can deny it all she wants, but courtesy the 'blue light special', her wedding line-up currently looks as if this might be it:

Stella, as the sister, would be the Maid of Honour and Mima would likely be the Flower Girl. That leaves, Trish, Livvie and Daisy as Bridesmaids.

However, as we all know that with Cathy, it'll probably change.

PB

Stella as the sister...

Is that the sister of the bride or of the groom or of both? Relationships get complicated.

Funny that Christianity

... demands a belief that one must be reconciled with the deity, be baptized and profess faith, before you can be 'saved'. But Cathy here has been given unearthly powers ( source unknown, but we are surmising here :) ) by some spoken ( or unspoken ) power. Apparently she has been deemed worthy to be such a vehicle despite her 'violation' of her faith.

It reminds me of a story of a fictional Chinese Arhat (or Lohan in Chinese) ( Buddhist entity ) who was reborn as a mortal and became a Buddhist Monk who went around drinking alcohol and eating meat and everybody looked down upon him. On the surface he has violated a lot of the basic practices of Buddhism and is hardly the ascetic, yet he was a holy man who went around subtly and not so subtly doing good works. The lesson of that of course is beware adhering to petty surface manifestations of 'faith' and think more of how you act and what is true inside.

Happy 700th Angharad ! Absolutely Brilliant Achievement !

Kim

No Flower Girls at British weddings

At British weddings, PB, we only have bridesmaids and don't have flower girls. There will probably be the occasional exception but it seems to be something from the US that hasn't strayed across here yet, I'm glad to say.

By and large, British wedding ceremonies are pretty traditional.

NS.

Blue light or not

Some people have a an "air" about them that encourages those around them to thrive, and Cathy has that air. Call it serenity, which seems strange given the turmoil in her own life. For those around her, it is certainly something that brings out the positive feelings in those whose lives she touches.

Spiritual Journey

Puddintane's picture

Indeed. Cathy started on her journey angry, fearful, needy, and insecure, and has gradually (as people do) become calmer, courageous, generous, and able to help others as she has herself been helped by those around her.

Cheers,

Puddin'
-----------
Do you need anybody?
I just need someone to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends,
--- John Lennon and Paul McCartney
    Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

-

Cheers,

Puddin'

A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style

I was very encouraged by the hand-holding

"She held out her hand to me and I grasped it and held it for the rest of my stay, or until the cup of tea arrived. “Lady Catherine, sugar?” asked the Sister."

Contact seems to be a part of Cathy's "thing." Didn't hear Daisy talking about feeling warm though.

Auntie Cathy

A natural Mother and encourager. That is her everyday magic that manifests as a blue light when needed.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Auntie Cathy

Why do I have an ominous feeling about this?

A little girl in hospital, as a result of a traumatic event, can't walk, already using the term "Auntie Cathy", with a very small family...

...and to cap it all, has already picked up an invite to the wedding...

Well, there are a few possible ways around this. For example, if the dad brings in a photo of the mother, then perhaps Cathy can do a remote heal the following night, thus avoiding adding further to her ever increasing brood...


As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

I Can't Think

of a single intelligent thing to say so, rather than expose myself as unintelligent, I won't say anything.

Except that I'm still here, thanks be to God (yes, I *am* a believer) and really enjoying the story.

700 parts is quite a milestone, isn't it? Congratulations! And thank you for doing this for us!

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

Double Celebration

700 episodes—what a milestone to achieve on your Special Anniversary. Double congrats, Ang, upon reaching your 8th Century.

Huge hugs,

Gabi.

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Angahard, 700 episodes is

Angahard, 700 episodes is truly a feat in itself. You may just be writing for pleasure of others, but you have certainly set a mark that will be hard to beat. Congratulations to you and Bonzi. J-Lynn

Catching up.

Well Angharad!
Ive reached chapter 700 and the story is as spellbinding as ever.
I like the blue light thing; hope everything goes well for Daisy and her mum.
Your really have a gift for keeping readers rivetted to the page.
D'you write professionally? (You know what I mean, no offence intended.)

Love and hugs,

Beverly Taff.