After the movie ended and Cookie went to bed, I stayed up by the light of my phone, researching the Unsinkable Molly Brown (a philanthropist who helped others board life boats, to the chagrin of well-heeled survivors), the oldest living passenger (none anymore), and famous people who met their fate on the ship (the first owners of Macy’s, among others). It was then that I remembered my childhood fascination with the story.
The next day, I showed my girls the iceberg scene, but not much more. I didn’t want to explain the tragic parts. The collision impressed them. Later, I showed them a YouTube recreation of how the ship sank, which researchers and artists knit together. When we visited the library, they each got two books about the Titanic.
When we came home from the library, the cleaning lady was here. We stayed out of her way on the third floor, now unoccupied by visitors.
The tall guest bed was a ship that hits an iceberg in the night. The laundry baskets were their lifeboats. Their dad, the playful captain who throws them over his shoulder. Then, when we got hungry, we turned out the light and went downstairs for something to eat.