The Things We Do

Tamar held her son in her arms torn between the urge to cry and the need to rejoice. And why shouldn’t she rejoice? She had a beautiful, healthy baby boy in her arms. Her mother-in-law and her father stood around the bed with her, both of them grinning broadly and speaking loud enough to hear each other over the baby’s cries.

Magdalene came into the room after a moment with her hands held over her heart and then she released a great big squeal only a teenage girl or a piglet could manage. “Oh, Tamar! He’s gorgeous! Can I hold him, please?!”

The new mother looked down at the baby and then finally acquiesced. “Yes, you may but be careful.” Tamar showed her sister how to hold the baby and then watched as Magdalene walked around holding the baby gently.

“What’s his name, Tay?” Magdalene finally asked after awhile, with her pinky clutched in his tiny fist. Her mother-in-law and father looked up from their conversation and gazed at her as she lay on the bed with a worried expression.

It wasn’t that Tamar hadn’t thought of names for her child. She’d had a good seven months to come up with two. If she’d had a girl her answer would have automatically been Sarah, simple, common, but perfect. She’d have been the family’s princess. A month ago she would have named her son Adam, but due to recent events…Well, she certainly didn’t want her son to meet the same fate. By that same logic Matthew was also out of the question.

Her last choice was one she hadn’t even considered before Adam died. She hadn’t even considered a name at all after he died. But all the same, it rolled off her tongue before she could stop it.

“Godric.”

“Godric? That’s an unusual name,” Magdalene said thoughtfully. Suddenly her eyes lit up, “I like it!” Magdalene walked back to her sister and laid her nephew onto Tamar’s open arms. She kissed her nephew’s forehead and whispered, “Good night, Godric. Auntie Dolly loves you.” She then kissed her sister on the cheek. “Night, Tay. Love you.”

“I love you too, Dolly. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Magdalene straightened up and strode out of the room with her head held high. Tamar managed to get up with her father’s help and began the fairly long process of washing her son, herself, and changing the bed-sheets.



“She’s so young to be a widow,” a woman remarked in the grocery store. “And with a baby too; it’s such a shame.”

“The younger, the widow the easier the life,” her companion replied. “She’s young, pretty, talented. Even with a child she can find another husband. Then she won’t have to work until her body wears down.”

“Oh, such nonsense. I’ve known Tammy since she was a baby. She’s not one of those types.” The two women nodded and smiled as Tamar passed them. Tamar smiled back at the two and continued on to get the bread.

“She’s strong, too.”

It was odd for Tamar to hear that word applied to her. She had never considered herself strong. When something was heavy or difficult she had someone help her, like her father or Luke. But maybe she wasn’t thinking of the word properly. After all, Adam had told her to be strong. He couldn’t have meant physically. Hopefully, he didn’t because if that was the case…

In other ways she supposed it was true, though. She took a job at the local florist (Dolly watched Godric while she worked), and she somehow managed to make ends meet although she now lived by herself. At one time she would’ve thought that it was impossible for a woman to do, not to mention herself, but now it had become easy for her.

The judgment passed on her was another matter. Some women saw her and sneered. “How disgusting! These girls don’t even wait until they’re married, nowadays!” Tamar blushed as she heard this. Her mother-in-law said it was a good thing to look young, but being a mother and looking like a 15 year old was not such a good thing.

But she dealt with it. The cold winter had passed and the rest of her grief had finally melted away. It was in the spring of 1919 that she realized that her grief blossomed into unconditional love for her son. It was also then that she realized she would do absolutely anything for the child.

And that night as she rocked her baby to sleep by the open window she whispered in his ear, “I would do anything for you; I love you more than anything or anyone else in this world.”



Being a mother was more difficult than Tamar imagined. For one thing Godric barely slept, which was probably the hardest thing to deal with for her. She was wont to sleep straight through the night and she always woke up fully restored. The exception of course was with her son’s namesake.

She heaved a sigh as Godric began to wail once more. That was another issue for her, but one she handled quite well. After all, she watched her little sister grow up and wailing was at one time Dolly’s favorite pastime. Tamar pushed herself off the sofa where she’d been reading and just as she was about to begin walking to the nursery she heard him…She wasn’t sure that she did at first until it was repeated. Yes, she had heard him correctly. Godric was laughing for the very first time.

Tamar smiled and quietly walked to the bedroom so as not to disturb him because he seemed to be having a wonderful time. But when she finally reached the doorknob and turned, he stopped laughing.

She heard what sounded like the window opening. In horror, she threw open the door and lunged into the room. There was no one in the room except for the infant who began crying again. Shaking, she walked over to him and picked him up, holding her close to her chest and gazed around the room.

The window was wide open and she slowly walked over to it, ready to run should there be any need. But of course, there wasn’t. The window was on the third and top floor of an apartment building and unless someone could fly it was impossible to reach.

She closed the window and every night for the next week she found the window open even though she checked it before she lay Godric down for the night. Her father was at a loss to explain how it kept opening and how anyone could climb up the building.

However, on the seventh night, when she went to check on Godric (and that damned window) she found that not only was the window open, but her son, the only one who forced her to be better, to stay healthy, to keep a handle on her loneliness and her misery, the only one she lived for, was gone.