A beautiful little creature is trying to get my attention, calling me away from the mental to-do list, the worries, the mundane. She’s inviting me just to be, with her, in the moment.
The car windows are tinted and I must lean in to see the long lashes framing her button brown eyes. Her cuteness oozes, after five years I’m still not over it. She’s grinning and waving and dancing in her seat. She’s blowing me a hundred kisses.
I pump gas with one hand, and with the other blow a hundred back.
She’s saying something now.
I bend closer, nose practically to the window. I can only see her by looking at me, my reflection in the glass. I see her face through mine, and as she moves I move. Our images merge. I am in awe of God. The mystery of her form beginning in me, taking pieces of me and all of my heart.
She’s making silly faces and I’ve seen them all before. I enjoy her, and I will belly-laugh all the way to the grave because Hope blessed my life.
All her moments are punctuated with an exclamation point. Everything is fun and exciting – carrots for dinner, Hello Kitty underwear, flowers, Bible stories, toenail trimming, the color purple. And she loves, oh how she loves.
She won’t always be the girl in the booster seat blowing kisses, I know. And sometimes I fret thinking of her growing and changing and leaving and seeing me differently.
But she draws me back again to now, all I have. She dabs her finger to her chest, then hugs herself vigorously, then points at me. And I just believe that her purity, her faithfulness, her drama, her hope-ness will remain.
I sign “I love you” back as best I can with one hand, knowing a thousand hands signing could not begin to tell it.