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 Posted: Sat May 20, 2006 12:02 pm
Sayuri paused again, fingers poised over the shamisen strings. What was it? It sounded almost like a cat crying; and a little like a baby. Which was curious as both her daughters had long since grown, and were of an age to have their own children - not that they would without informing her - well she hoped. The instrument was carefully put to one side and she stood, skirts in hand, tabi covered feet padding across the tatami-matted floor of her bedroom in the apartment within the estate of Emerald Haven. She had been alcohol free for many weeks now, and was enjoying her old hobbies again, and being a part of Rhiannon's life. It wasnt to say she wasnt lonely, just not wallowing in self-pity. At this point she had a hand on the door leading into the small and cosy living room part of the apartment, and she pushed it open, walking inside and looking around.
The sound had stopped now and she frowned.
'Anyone here?' she said out loud, walking around to the front of green sofa with the gold vine embroidery.
'Oh my god..' she dropped the skirts of her kimono, a hand fluttering to her open mouth, hair ornaments jingling as she stepped back a little, wide eyed and staring at the occupant of one of the sofa's seats. It was a swaddled baby, big golden eyes staring back at her, slightly shiny from the crying it had obviously been doing.
'So..' Sayuri swallowed, feeling a little - well stunned to be honest and she lowered herself into the seat next to the baby. Many many questions flitted through her mind. How had the baby gotten here after all? Why did she keep getting babies left with her? She giggled a little at that..it was an odd thought that she was obviously a well used drop-off point for the stork! The baby .. girl she was guessing from the pink colour of the blanket - was adorable though - and winged. Not that she was unused to children with added appendages. When one raised the four-armed incarnation of a Hindu goddess, one tended to not be too phased by a being with wings.
So - this kind of solved the loneliness didnt it? She scooped the baby up, a finger going to the coiled kiss curl lock of hair on the girls forehead. The baby followed the finger, a smile appearing on her chubby features. Sayuri knew that was most likely to be gas rather then amusement but then the girl let out a tiny hiccupy giggle.
'Lalita..' Sayuri said, the name popping unbidden from her mind. She cradled Lalita against her, the baby giving a contented gurgle as if it knew that now it was safe, and now was the time to sleep as the lids lowered and the long lashes lay curled on plump cheeks. Sayuri hummed a soft tune, wondering when she could grab a moment to contact Rhiannon or Sati so that they could bring her some supplies for the baby!
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Posted: Sat May 20, 2006 12:03 pm
Journal Entry:
When does Fate look upon a life and decide to change it? I wish I knew. The arrival of this new child has thrown my life into a sharp relief; I am not allowed to wallow, to slip into my old ways of comfort because this fragile life depends on me. Even more so then either of my daughters do.
Their independence lead in a sense to my overwhelming loss of purpose, although I would never blame them for growing up and living their own lives, the fault is mine for not coping with the loss of purpose in my life.
I've wandered from my point; suffice it to say that I know now what holds me to normality - it is the ones who rely on me to be there for them. And even the ones that have flown the nest, well, they still need me as well from time to time.
Lalita is a beautiful baby, bright and cheerful as well, living up to the name that I gave her, the one that sprang unbidden from my lips when I first cradled her. I spoke to Sati, showed her the baby and she told me that Lalita is a Hindu name, meaning 'she who plays'. It really does suit her. Sati seemed to enjoy holding the baby, and Lalita giggled, unafraid at the sight of my dark skinned, four armed daughter. It was a little bit of a bittersweet moment though as Sati will never have children of her own, and I know she would have been a wonderful mother.
Lalita sleeps whilst I write this, not in the Moses basket that I got for her, but on my lap. She is a little clingy and cries loudly if I try to put her down to sleep. So she has sleep in my lap, and I sleep seated upright in a comfy chair. I only hope that she breaks this habit when she grows a little older. I do miss my bed!
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