My Favorite Part of the Day

This is my favorite part of the day.

The sun sets, the bullfrogs turn it up a notch, and my heart and arms are full.  My daughters’ love fest begins; hugs and multiple kisses all around, accompanied by the now familiar pang in my gut that comes with the sincere, silent wish of every mother, “I pray they stay this close forever.”  My eyes water, my heart beats stronger, and my face warms from the smile that has spread across it. 

The same story is read/recited for the thirty-fifth time in as many evenings, prayers are started and people or stuffed animals are blessed several times, and she begins.

“Tomoyo, I go cherch!”

“Why you hair wet?”

“No let witch ge me, kay?”

 “Seuss in Heaven with God.”

“But Mama, I no wan to go nigh-nigh!”

“But Mama, I no wan you to leeeeave.”

This is my favorite part of the day.

Promises are uttered about being just downstairs and always being here for her, and that appeases her…for now.  Lullabye, AKA Rockabye, is hummed ad nauseum, but I love it.  Every second, I love it.  This is our time; our special time when my face is so close to hers for an extended period of time, yet I’m acutely aware of just how fleeting these moments will become.  Days pass, inches attach themselves to my daughters…as do those pesky days, weeks, and even years.  Before I know it, they won’t want to be this close to me for a moment longer than a quick peck and barely-there hug…if I’m lucky.

This is my favorite part of the day.

My keen ability to multi-task, a sure blessing, allows me to hum a tune and think about my precocious daughter at the same time.  Her soft, stick-straight blonde hair, enormous sky-blue eyes, perfect rosebud lips…she is a true beauty.  Memories of the day bombard my mind, and I review dances with her dolls-both in princess dresses-in the family room, “Gace, gi me hug,” the cartoonish way her face crumples when she’s disappointed or sad, “Yeth, you can,” the pinwheel that is her running style.  The idea of bekiss, lunch, and dinnah bring such joy to her little life…and I try to capture it all and put it in my mind for safe keeping.  

I watch her fall asleep.  It’s magical.  To watch her mouth stop moving, her fingers cease their nightly ritual of rubbing Snuggle Bunny’s ear to her lip, her eyelids fluttering to their down and locked position, is a gift.  The moment is not lost on me-not even for a second.  She is protected in the folds of my arms…for the time being.  Her sleeping face, peaceful and angelic, would provide a subject for the most renowned painters and poets alike.  

All I can do is just stare down at her; my impulsive, brave, generous Little Bit.  Love pours out of every cell of my being for this little life.  I thank God for her during these moments, because I know that she is very much His gift to me and not the other way around.  So, I rock her just a few minutes more; I hold her just a little bit tighter; I hum a few extra verses.  

She is mine and I am hers. 

This is my favorite part of the day.