A Plate of Mashed Potatos

Today is Sophie’s birthday. Sophie turns seven today. Kim is over at Sophie’s house right now delivering a birthday present.

Sophie and  Elena were best friends. Sure they were first graders, but you could almost squint and see them a dozen or so years from now on bar stools celebrating their birthdays together while boys fought to buy them drinks. They seemed like a couple of cuties destined to be friends for life.

Sophie and Elena were born two days apart and just seemed to have a deep bond.

When Elena died, I called Sophie’s mom. I didn’t want her to have to hear from a stranger and I didn’t want Sophie to find out at school. As it turned out, the school had called the teachers in to form a call-bank calling parents and letting them know what had happened.

A day or so later (the days did sort of run together) Sophie and her mom came over to visit. Sophie had very sensibly asked her mom to make Elena’s favorite dish to bring over to our house: mashed potatos. According to Sophie, it had taken her mom several tries to get it just right. Sophie wasn’t going to let her mom bring over just any old mashed potatos.

Sophie has a voice that you can’t ignore. It is a wonderful, deep, expressive, and usually joy-filled voice. After presenting Kim, and Maggie, and I with chocolate bars, she sat down in Elena’s seat and had a plate of the mashed potatos she’d just delivered.

Perfect.