Letter to My Children: Thank you Redwall

“Bean, I am going to read a chapter of Triss to your brother. Do you want to join us?”

“Could you read really loud from his room?”

“Of course!”

Settled into Dragon’s big chair, I open to our spot in the well-loved library book. Then I switched on voice memos to record the latest Redwall installment for your Yoto.

Dragon leaned over the book, “Is the next chapter odd or even?”

“Odd.”

“Oh good, then it is me.”

My finger hovered over the red button to record, I looked up at him, “Are you ready?”

A definitive nod, I pressed the red button.

Dragon’s clear clarion voice rang out. “Chapter fifteen.”

…and we were off!

I had no idea when a friend recommended Redwall in 2021 we would STILL be reading the books 4 years later. I recorded the first RedWall while I was in the hospital doing the bone marrow transplant. Every day I would drag my will to eek out one chapter - not realizing that a Redwall chapter can last for 25 minutes, involve different accents (the hares, the moles, the Dibbuns, the squirrels, the vixen), and be quite dense.

As a logophile/bibliophile I mean dense in the best way. Brian Jacques (Jacques rhymes with cakes) is a beautiful writer.

Warm dusk stole through the twilight at the pond’s edge in Redwall Abbey’s grounds: moths fluttered softly over shimmering firelight reflections upon the still waters. Scarlet and gold flames flickered upward from the fire, their light forming a cave in the encroaching dark of night.

…..

Pearl Queen skimmed over the summer seas like a great bird, every southward, cutting white-crested rollers, with webs of sunlit water patterns racing along her hull above the seashadows. Finnbarr and Joseph. leaned over the stern rail, watching their vessel’s creamy wake trail out until it merged with the distant main.

“Vessel’s creamy wake”

Sigh.

Yes please,

Thank you children for giving me the excuse to spend time with such a beautiful writer.

It is a joy to glance over and see your eyes light up with excitement when the story gets exciting.

It is a joy to hear your gasps and exclamations when beloved characters make mistakes.

It is a joy to feel your warm bodies next to me under soft blankets.

It is a joy being your momma.