“Okay Clara, you have freckles on your back, here, here, here, and there is a little one here.” I was helping her out of her Sunday dress and into pajamas.
“Oh, that’s perfect!” She replied. “It’s like our family.”
“But that was only four freckles. There are five people in our family. Who is missing?”
Without hesitation she said. “Lydia, of course.” She lifted her hand above her head, “She is here. On my hand, see?”
I did see. barely. A faint dot on the back of her right hand. “Why is she way over there?”
“Well, this hand is Gran and Papa’s house.” She wiggled her fingers. See the forest in their back yard?” Then she gave a thumbs up. “And this is Paul’s house across the street.”
“What about you?”
“Oh.” She turned back around and pointed at her left shoulder blade. “I’m over her watching the airshow with Grandma and Granddaddy.” Her boney shoulder danced a few seconds and stopped. “We’ll be home tomorrow night.”
I slipped the nightgown on over her head. Then I lifted the intricate map of her tiny world into bed and covered it in a blanket to keep it safe until morning.