Over several months when Timothy was 5 years old, I told him stories from my own imagination, shared in small installments each night in the dark. Sometimes he would ask me to repeat a story, and this would be a challenge because I didn’t write them down. My stories were about the adventures of a young mouse named Louie. When you are a third child and second son, few things come to you that aren’t hand-me-downs. Louie stories were my original, individualized gift to Timothy each night.
We lay on his pillow together at bedtime and Timothy would say, “Mom, can I have a Louie?” and remind me where we left off in the story the night before. While I spun my stories, Mark nestled in his blankets in the crib at the foot of Timothy’s bed. For those few months, Mark didn’t need me at bedtime and I could give Timothy some one-on-one attention. I avoided cutting my hair at this time because twirling it seemed to be linked to Timothy’s feelings of security at night.
I wrote a synopsis of Louie’s world that year to help me to remember it.
Louie is a young brown mouse living in the middle of a neighborhood in an empty lot. His neighborhood is friendly, with houses all around. Although there are people living around Louie, most of them do not know he is there. He has a few people friends but most things Louie does happen when people aren’t looking. It’s just safer that way. Louie’s best friend is a cat named Jack who lives up the street. Jack is an old orange cat who is too tired to chase mice anymore and often lets Louie ride on his back as Louie looks for adventures around the neighborhood.
In Louie’s world, a Cheerio is a full meal; trash left behind by humans is treasure; friends are those he can trust with the secret whereabouts of his house and family. His mom loves to see that Louie is well fed with interesting meals such as half a grape and a goldfish cracker or a Cheerio with a half an M&M for dessert. Louie’s mom also sees that Louie is tucked in at night and gets his rest.
Louie’s dad goes to the dump each day to forage for the family. Louie often goes along with his dad to the dump to find interesting and useful items to use around the mouse house. They dig into trash bags to find food to eat or lumber for the latest project. Popsicle sticks are an especially helpful find. Transportation to the dump is important, since Louie can’t scurry that far without getting exhausted. It’s a hilly road leading to the dump, and the well-worn roller skate makes for a great ride downhill.
The park is another place that Louie enjoys visiting. He has a possum friend who lives in the park trash can and there is a whole network of tunnels under the park where the park mice have dug nests and dens. Who knows if this is what real mice do? But in our stories, mice like tunneling. Louie visits mice friends named Sam and Rosie in the tunnels and an old, eccentric scientist mouse who keeps a helpful stash of batteries in his den.
Childhood bedtime rituals are as powerful as they are temporary. We both loved the Louie stories, but one night we stopped sharing them. Months went by and when I pondered what to give Timothy for Christmas, I decided to type up the stories and print them out in a book for him. Putting them in writing narrowly reflects the impromptu details and tenderness that accompanied their creation. They are merely echoes of one of the details of mothering, but for the memory of his childhood that that they represent, I am grateful.