My Cassie

The alarm clock rings.

I'm already lying awake in my bed. My husband is deaf to it, as he has always been for the past 10 years. I turn the alarm clock off without even looking at it and the morning is still again. I push my feet off the bed and allow them to be greeted by my warm, fluffy slippers before I make my way to another room.

I rub my eyes. I was up all night, tired but unable to sleep. I walk through the corridor, quietly turned a familiar brass-plated door knob and pushed the door, praying that it doesn't creak.

And there it is, the most beautiful thing in my life.

Cassie is still sleeping like a rock, peacefully tucked in thick blankets with elephant prints. The story book that my husband reads to her every night is at the foot of the bed and I look for signs of late night Fruitloop treats that I specifically prohibit my husband from giving her but he gives her anyway. He spoils her, I tell you. And sometimes they turn off the lights in her room to make me believe that she's already sleeping but my baby can't laugh softly, only capable of exploding with ecstatic fits of laughter, just like me, and I hear my husband 'Shhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!'-ing her like he always does with me. Goodness knows how often I hear them giggling and agreeing not to tell me about their little snack. Sometimes I burst in the room and catch them red handed. Sometimes I just let it go. Most of the time, I join them and tell them while laughing "THIS IS THE LAST TIME, YOU HEAR?!"

I take a few silent steps forward and sit at the edge of her bed, careful to be silent, just admiring every detail of her. Her mouth that looks like her dad's is slightly opened. I look at her little nose and sepet eyes that she got from me with wonder once again. Her hair is soft and messy and her skin fair. I count the number of times I see her tiny chest rise up and down, reluctant to wake her up.

I sigh. Life passes us by too quickly. It seemed like it was just yesterday I married my high school sweetheart, got pregnant and reassured my clueless, sobbing hubby that just because Cassie vomitted on him it DOES NOT MEAN that she hates him. And now, here we are.

"Hey dear....wakey, wakey," I soothe as I patted her belly. 

"Mmmmmm........." she silently groans and turns away from me. I don't blame her.

It takes awhile, but eventually she's sitted up. Sleep is still in her eyes but I'm glad. At least she won't see my puffy and swollen eyes. 

"Mummy??"

"Mmm?" I replied. 

She doesn't continue, almost as if she forgotten what she wanted to ask. It's a trait we both share and I smile to myself as I kiss her forehead.

"Come dear," I say, guiding her to stand up. However, she sleepily, instinctively and maybe even stubbornly lifts both her hands in the air, expecting me to carry her. I know the books tell me I shouldn't give in and let her walk herself and I always have been doing that, but today, I make an exception.

"Mummy?"

"Mmm?" I replied, wondering if she's going to remember her question this time. 

She doesn't. 

"I love you, Cassie,"

"I love you too, mummy".

It was only then I notice my husband standing by the door of our room, smiling at us as he watches. I smile back.

"Mummy?"

"Mmm?"

"Will you be with me on my first day of school?"

My heart jumps to my throat and I grip her tighter, feeling fresh tears welling in my eyes.

"Yes, honey. Of course!" forcing myself to sound more cheery than I felt. I kiss her cheek hurriedly, wishing I could immortalise moments like this before she grows up too quickly.