Lauren - this is the second of your pieces I've had the pleasure and privilege to read today. How glad I am you've joined the project. My own two children are close in age like this, and were often assumed to be twins. They bathed together every night til my son was seven, my daughter five. Then it naturally ended. In the summer holidays…
Lauren - this is the second of your pieces I've had the pleasure and privilege to read today. How glad I am you've joined the project. My own two children are close in age like this, and were often assumed to be twins. They bathed together every night til my son was seven, my daughter five. Then it naturally ended. In the summer holidays of that year I said they should put their swimsuits on (they'd become aware of their nakedness in a new way) for One Last Shared Bath. I handed them each a whole bottle of bubble bath and a kitchen whisk with the instruction to whip foam as high above the bath top as they could without it spilling over. I'd forgotten all the sensory rituals of those years, but your writing here - like all good writing about one's very particular memories - has taken me time-travelling in turn. Thank you.
How sharply sad the almost-ending of your piece - but then the love offering of your beautifully elegiac penultimate sentence.
Lauren - this is the second of your pieces I've had the pleasure and privilege to read today. How glad I am you've joined the project. My own two children are close in age like this, and were often assumed to be twins. They bathed together every night til my son was seven, my daughter five. Then it naturally ended. In the summer holidays of that year I said they should put their swimsuits on (they'd become aware of their nakedness in a new way) for One Last Shared Bath. I handed them each a whole bottle of bubble bath and a kitchen whisk with the instruction to whip foam as high above the bath top as they could without it spilling over. I'd forgotten all the sensory rituals of those years, but your writing here - like all good writing about one's very particular memories - has taken me time-travelling in turn. Thank you.
How sharply sad the almost-ending of your piece - but then the love offering of your beautifully elegiac penultimate sentence.
Here is your link:
https://thecureforsleep.com/september-issue-on-time/#laurenlongshaw
Txx