...I was changing the bedsheets for the last time tonight, and I couldn't help but watch, as if for the first time, her usual routine of bouncing and giggling, arms flailing with legs like spaghetti while falling and laughing and periodically spouting gibberish and cohesive sentences. Miss C-Jaz loves loves loves to play on the bed while I try to fix it. It was entertaining to watch her let herself fall onto the bed after she walked in tiny steps 'round and 'round in a circle. She'd stop after belly flopping onto the bed, her left cheek lying on the bed looking up at me. A smile and a ripple of giggles would form at her lips, and her eyes shone with pure glee and joy.
I wondered so many things at that moment. Mostly I wondered just how much Miss C-Jaz could comprehend the events of the past few days and as if she understands what is to come; she talks as if she gets it. "Mommy, can I see Elmo in my luggage?"
"Sure. We're bringing him home to Canada, right?" I ask in hopes that she won't want to take him out of the tetris-ized box-luggage.
"Yesssssss!" Miss C-Jaz hisses with a fisted hand and arm raised high in the air. "'Tanks', Mommy!"...
