Tatum had to write a Memoir for her first memory of being read to. This was her story. WOW
5-year-old me
As I lay in bed the gentle rhythm of my breath began to sync with the soft sounds around me, each exhale an invitation to drift to sleep.
My eyelids grew heavy, and the world outside my cocoon of blankets faded into a blur.
I could feel the warmth from my mom, who sat beside me, her presence a comforting anchor in the hazy twilight.
My mom clutching a well-worn book read aloud her voice soft and smooth. Every so often she would glance back at me her eyes calm.
The pages turned with a soft rustle, a soothing sound that blended seamlessly like a hushed lullaby.
Her voice wrapped around me like a gentle embrace each word flying of the page then tugging at my heart.
I listened to the book, Are You My Mother, her voice a melodic backdrop to the quiet of the night.
With each passing moment, the tension in my small muscles melted away, lulled by the cadence of her reading and the soft glow of my lamp, casting a warm halo in the somewhat dark room.
Just as I started to drift away, I felt a surge of gratitude for this moment.
I slowly surrendered to the urge to sleep.
With one glance at the pages, I closed my eyes comforted by the thought that I was not alone then I slipped into sleep.
