Friday, September 2, 2016

Sisterly Love is the Best Medicine

Berzo woke up this morning with a moan. She rolled and stretched a bit and gave a little why-is-this-happening-to-me sob. I felt her head, still hot; her hands, on fire.


“Will I be just fine, Mama?”

“Of course, you just have a little fever. Let me go get you some water.”

I get up to get her some water.

“Is it nice and cold, Mama?” She sighs with relief as she drinks.

I set her water cup aside and tell her I’ll go get some medicine. I leave the room and Boots is up and cheery and LOUD, as usual. I whisper that Berzo is still not feeling well. Boots looks sad.

I bring Berzo her water and medicine and try to coax her into an upright sitting position. She is snuggled into a big C shape and her face twists in pain as she tries to get up. She flops back down and holds out her empty dosage cup. I ask if she wants me to take her out and put her in the big comfy chair to watch TV, she says she just wants to lay in bed longer.

Boots asks if maybe Berzo would like some applesauce, “Because when I'm sick, and nothing sounds good, but I'm hungry, I want applesauce.”

“You can ask her, but I’m not sure if she'll want it.”

Boots skips off to Berzo's room. Soon I hear the familiar voices of Gerald and Piggy floating down the hallway. I go in to bring Berzo her morning warm cocoa milk and both girls are fixated on a book. Berzo declines her cocoa because, “I'm having an applesauce pouch right now.” I tell her it'll be waiting for her whenever she’s ready.

I return to the kitchen to start my coffee and listen to their voices—happy voices—float down the hallway. Berzo is still burning a 101-degree fever, but she's sparkly, reflecting the light from her sister's love.

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