Requim for a Crib

September 14, 2010

Like so many mother before me –  I have been keeping my babies’ crib in a shadowy corner of the basement. I don’t know if I’ve been saving it with future grandchildren in mind or simply because I couldn’t bear to let that last great bastion of babyhood go. Toys have gone – bottles and bibs have gone – clothes and blankets that once swaddled them have gone. But the crib – that was the last piece, like a great white ship, carefully taken apart and placed in that back corner, opposite the furnace. Sometimes, when I would go downstairs to get a box of holiday decorations I’d see it peeking out at me – beckoning to me with its dust tinged, creamy white bars. You know the kind….little teeth marks on the top bar where each baby had gnawed a few tiny bites while calling out to be picked up from a sleep – always reminding me of the countless times I had gingerly lowered a sleeping infant into it, praying that baby wouldn’t wake up the moment they touched the mattress (of course they did – well, two out of three of them did, anyway!).

This morning I see it sitting between the garbage can and the recycling bin, waiting to be crushed in the truck’s giant teeth. I agreed that we should get rid of it once all the reports of the dangers of cribs with their kick down sides. I know… I know it isn’t safe anymore and so of course, I want it to go – I wouldn’t put any grandchildren in harm’s way…but still – my babies!, I think, as I see it laying on the curb….there goes the last piece of  proof that my university aged children were indeed once tiny babies…tiny babies that I nuzzled and nurtured – that I sat with in the dark in a rocking chair….

Wait! The rocking chair! I knew I still had something left!


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