It's a Fine Line

It’s a Fine Line


I take my pajamas off the shelf. They are blue, like my eyes. I only wear them on Monday. Don’t ask me why, it’s just a thing.

My closet has shelves for all my clothes. I don’t have a dresser. I don’t know why. Mary asks me that every time she’s here. I get annoyed answering that question. It’s just a thing.

So what if you don’t have a dresser, is that a sin? Isn’t it okay to have your clothes on a shelf in a closet instead?

Isn’t it okay to wear blue pajamas only on Monday and on no other night?

Are rules there to be broken? And who made the rules?

My mother said I was too young to think of such things. I should not worry, play with my dolls instead. Obey the rules and don’t worry. This is what mother said.

I still hear my mother’s voice. She still tells me to follow the rules. But it gets harder and harder to remember the rules.

“Mother, I try. I really do try. See? I am wearing the blue pajamas tonight. It is Monday night. I will wear the blue ones tonight. I will play with my dolls and wear the blue pajamas tonight.”

“Very good Sally. Now it’s time for bed, let me help you into bed. We don’t want you to fall.”

Mary Margaret is the aide at the nursing home where Sally lives. She has been taking care of Sally for over ten years. Sometimes Sally thinks Mary Margaret is her mother, and sometimes Sally thinks Mary Margaret is her old friend.

But that’s okay. When you love someone, sometimes the lines are blurred.

W/C 281