So, I went in there tonight. I started at her for a long time. I do that a lot. Especially lately. But, tonight, that wasn’t enough. I needed her closer, so I gathered her into my arms and rocked her back and forth. She cried a little and found her thumb, quickly falling back to sleep.
I knew before that life was precious–invaluable. When I would hear that statement, I’d agree, only seeing one dimension. Now, I know that the statement is two fold. Yes, life is invaluable. But “precious” means more. Sensitive. Delicate Fragile.
As I held her tonight, I saw how small she is. How tiny. Her little mouth, sucking at nothing. Her closed eyes, dreaming. Her hands, no bigger than my palms. Her whole body and life fits into my arms. She’s so sensitive. So delicate. So fragile. I knew before, in a happy way. How lucky I was and it made me happy. Now, I know how blessed I am, and it all scares me.
I am so lucky to have her. She makes it all ache so much less. Sometimes. She is a distraction during the day, keeping me very busy. Feedings, cuddles, entertaining, bathing, laughs. But at night, when she is sleeping and the dark creeps up, sometimes the ache comes back. I go in and watch her. I want to wake her up, play with her. Remind me I still have one life. Usually, I leave her be. Tonight, I needed her closer.
I suppose more gratitude can only be a good thing, even when tinged with sadness and fear. But with that jaded gratitude comes pain. Thankfully, when the pain sweeps in, I have her. I can hold her and love her. Her sheer innocence and happiness numb the pain a little, even if just for awhile.