Belly Literary Universe (part 1)

Myre's Enthusiasm Part 18: Repetition and Iteration

"Hey, you've reached the voicemail for Tilly Kamerina. I can't come to the phone right now because I'm either too busy or I dropped the phone and can't reach it. Heh. Either way, please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can." The message beeped.

Myre took a deep breath and stared out the window. The sun had just passed below the pacific horizon. "Hey mom... I'm just calling because I just miss you. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to talk to you, even if you can't talk back. I - I just want to thank you for everything you gave me." Myre smirked a little and rubbed the side of her slightly rounded stomach. "Thank you for all the love and opportunities you gave me. Listen to me talk as if it's graduation. But I really mean it. I know times were hard when I was growing up and you did what you had to. But.. I'm doing great now. Really great. I'm sure you'd have harsh words to say about running an ice cream shop, but... I really just wish I could show it to you. I'm sure after you scolded me you'd be proud. I miss you. I love you."

The line beeped. "Message recorded. Press 1 to send your message, press 2 to re-record, or press 3 for more options."

Myre wiped her eyes and pressed 1 on her phone. She liked to imagine her mom would get her messages one day, even though her phone sat gathering dust on a bookshelf. Despite her sniffles and nostalgic melancholy, hearing her voice again cheered her up. From high on a shelf, she took down an old photograph. Dust filled the air as she emptied her lungs toward the glass frame.

Caught in a rush of memories, she stood and stared at the photo.

'Please mom? Please please please! If you let me paint your belly then you don't have to worry about your shirt fitting when i go trick or treating!' Myre remembered begging her Mom. Persistence prevailed. She couldn't say no to Myre's youthful enthusiasm. After fetching orange and green body paint, Tilly plopped down, spread her legs and dropped her stretch mark laden belly onto the floor so young Myre could paint it.

It took forever for Myre to actually cover her Mom's belly with paint that night. She cringed and smiled at the innocent but insensitive comments she remembered making: 'Wow Mom, the doctors are going to love how big you're getting!' She remarked not realizing how upset her Mom was with her size. 'You're going to look like the biggest prized pumpkin when I'm done.' She joked, further reminding her Mom of just how fat she had gotten. Even now, knowing how she felt about it, she didn't think of her comments as insulting. Misguided maybe, but not insulting.

Still, even after all her teasing, Myre's mom praised and thanked Myre for her sweet intentions. And to her younger self's surprise, she actually seemed to be cheered up when it came time for trick or treating.

Tilly was smaller in the photograph than she remembered her being. Maybe it was only because after this picture was taken she would over double her body weight, and she was projecting her more recent memories into the past.

With a mournful smirk she pat her own belly. Should I even be enjoying being so round when she would have hated it?

She took the photo over to her chair, placed it on the lamp table, and grabbed her sketchpad. Her mind was too full to think. Drawing would help bring things into clarity. Without knowing what the end product would be, she drew the broad strokes of her sketch - a modernized version of the photograph. With inspired speed, she sketched her mom with legs stuck out straight and spread wide. She drew braided hair, thin reading glasses, and hands interlocked resting atop her person sized belly. That was how Myre remembered her. With deft strokes she captured her Mom's warm smile and motherly posture. She drew her adult self kneeling in front of her, and dragging a paintbrush down her giant belly.