Bright Moments

I watched her yesterday, really watched her; drank her up in big gulps. Laid beside her on the couch and studied her profile, lingering over her dollop of a nose and her thick fan of lashes, the way they swooped up and down, up and down. I took her in, all of her, her face and her hair, her smooth, milky skin and the windows to her beautiful soul.

My daughter.

We spent a large portion of the day reading stories, watching Kipper, playing "croquet" and goofing around. We tickled and giggled and I smothered her with kisses and told her that I loved her more than the moon and the stars and the sun in the sky.



They were bright moments, beautiful ones. Ones that I tucked away for later because I know there will come a time when I’ll want to pull them out and cup them in my hands, lean my face in close and live them again.