Aunt Julie is in town visiting, and she stayed with us yesterday. Caroline has been over the moon about having her around. When Julie stepped out of the room, Caroline turned to me and said, "I think Aunt Juju smells amazing... like lavender pie!"
The time came today for Julie to move on to another relative's house, though we'll see her again before she heads home; and Caroline was so sad about it. She teared up while getting ready for preschool. She flung herself into Julie's arms and said, "I'm going to miss you so much!"
Julie reminded her that she would see her again.
"It's not the same! I want you to stay in our house for three days," she said through tears.
Julie hugged her.
Then Caroline thought of a way to soothe her sad heart, "Well, maybe you could get me a toy to remember you by..."
On the way to school, she heard a song on the radio that she had listened to with Julie the night before in her room.
She shook her head and got misty-eyed, "I wish I could be dancing to this song with Aunt Juju. Now I'll never hear this song without being sad."
We got home from preschool, and Caroline ran into the house, hopeful for a miracle -- that Aunt Juju would still be here. Alas, she saw no suitcase and no Julie.
She said, very dramatically as she slumped over, "She's -- she's gone."
I patted her back and told her that we'd call Julie tonight so she can chat with her. She sat on the couch, sniffling and welling up with big tears.
A few minutes later, she looked at me and said, "I'm feeling a little better now." Then she smiled weakly and said, "At least I can still smell her lavender loveliness in the air."