What is that noise? I think someone is knocking on that door beside the closet. I’m not sure where I am exactly. This bed, the pictures, and the rocker look familiar, but I don’t know where my people are. Where did they go? Why am I alone? I’d better go open the door.

It’s her — that girl who comes to be with me. I think she’s my little girl, but she might be my mom. I’m never quite sure which one she is when she comes. She tells me her name. That is the name of my little girl. She must be my daughter.

Was she here yesterday? I don’t remember. She smiles and hugs me. The hugs feel like something I’ve felt before — not a new hug but like a well-worn hug from a long time ago. She brings me things that taste good and smell good — not like the tastes and smells in this strange place. Somehow she knows me. Her voice: It sounds a little like mine, especially when she laughs. She even looks and acts a bit like me. I have a little girl who is just like her, but I’m not sure where she is at the moment. Is this my daughter?

I sit down in this rocking chair that fits me just right, and she brushes my hair. I like how she curls it under just so. I can’t figure out how to make it go that way anymore. She makes sure I have socks on with my shoes. That feels much better now. I can’t seem to remember what goes where or when to do things.

She knows I like to go for walks, no matter what the weather is. She puts a coat on me from that closet and helps me zip it up. I don’t know who it belongs to or how to make that zipper work anymore, but it seems to fit me well. We walk down the hallway through this big room with lots of people sitting around — who are all of these people? I think that man is the preacher, and that lady sometimes needs my help with eating. It’s too noisy in here. There are odd pictures moving on that TV on the wall. Some of them frighten me. I need away from here.

Caring Bonds of Love

She takes me by the hand through the door that makes a strange, scary beeping sound. We’re finally out in the fresh air. I can breathe again. It feels good, but I wish this big fence wasn’t in the way. I’d like to keep walking down over that hill. Maybe I could find home on that street over there. I’ve been looking for home every day. I can’t find it. This girl feels a little like home though. I want to go home. Why won’t she take me home with her? I need to find home.

She sits with me at this table of strangers while I have something to eat and helps me figure out what I like. I didn’t know I was hungry, but I was feeling a little sick in my stomach. It feels better now, so I must have been hungry.

This girl seems to know a lot about me. It feels comforting to have her near. She comes at nighttime too and helps me put on different clothes. I’m not sure why I need different clothes again, but I do feel cozy and warm.

I don’t recall what those bottles and tubes are for anymore either. One smells minty and one like lavender. She rubs some of the lavender one on my hands and feet, and brushes some of the minty one on my teeth. There is something so familiar about the cream she’s rubbing on my face from that jar — such a sweet fragrance. Have I used that before? I feel more relaxed now.

She helps me climb into this big bed and makes sure I’m settled in the middle so I don’t fall out. For some reason, I roll out of bed and fall down a lot. I’m fidgety. I  can’t seem to stop my hands from pulling at the blankets and grabbing at the air. She tucks the covers in around me — is she my mom? She stays with me, whispering kind words and holding my hand because I’m afraid of the darkness surrounding me. I feel safer now. It must be bedtime because I’m drifting off to sleep . . .

. . . The sun is shining. Is it morning? A new day? What is that noise? I think someone is knocking on that door. It’s her — that girl who comes to be with me. Was she here yesterday? I don’t remember.