Have you seen that Subaru commercial with the little girl and dad on the girl’s first day of kindergarten?
The first time I saw it, my world stopped spinning for a moment. That little girl. She looked so much like what I dream Cora would look like.
Screenshot of a frame of the commercial.
Last night the commercial came on while my husband and I were watching TV and he turned to me and said the same thing. The little girl reminded him of Cora.
Maybe it was that image that lead to my experience later that night.
A few hours later and we climbed into bed. Both dogs jumped up after and as usual our queen size bed felt more like a twin. We’re not little people and with two dogs and the mountain of pillows I keep, the bed gets cramped.
Soon I could hear my husband softly snoring, but I couldn’t sleep. I was tucked facing the middle of the bed and as has happened, I could feel the spot where she is supposed to be. I could imagine her sneaking into our bed in the middle of the night after a nightmare.
I could feel her there. One of those feelings you can’t put into words. I stayed in the moment as much as possible and listened to my body. I could feel our little Cora, in the form of the toddler she would be now all curled up next to my arm. Soon my arms and chest started to ache from the pain of not having her in them.
All the sudden, our bed felt like it spanned the Sahara desert. So much empty space.
It was a happy-sad moment. I felt so incredibly close to her. I felt the mother-daughter bond. The bond that transcends anything else I’ve ever known. I was happy to have her in my heart in that moment. I was also mournful over the fact that she should be there in body, not just in spirit.