Charlotte Pomerantz, Posy. Illustrated Catherine Stock. (New York: Greenwillow, 1983).
This is a book of four stories, each a reminiscence shared, a memory built with words, between Posy and her father, as Posy prepares for bed. They recall the time that Posy’s father ordered sheets, all pink, because Posy told him to; the time Posy learned where her parents go at night when they go out, and what they do when they come home; the day Posy’s mother gave her a pocketbook and three dimes that she and her father spent on her first chocolate bar; and the wishing game Posy played in the country, wishing for three grandmas and a hundred balloons. It’s a lovely book, with soft drawings, in which Posy’s father serves to support Posy’s memories of herself, recalling her into the present moment, parenting her with little reference to his own life outside of hers—a book, in other words, that is true to a child’s existence, egocentric in the most satisfying way, for what parent has an existence without a child—the child makes the parent, and this truth is one rarely reflected in stories of fathers, who are forever busy with their own lives. “Of course,” said Posy. “I just needed to be reminded.”