Monday, January 16, 2012

Love is a verb.

Tonight my eldest little bitty girl is sick (again; winter has been rough around our house) and her poor little self looked so, dejected? down? Her spirit was down, so I climbed up to the top bunk with her and we snuggled and as I rubbed her back and her hair until she fell asleep I told her about my mom doing the same when I was smallish. And how to this day I can feel her hands and smell her just closing my eyes. I told her how I felt like I could feel my mom's love coming right through her fingertips to me and she smiled with her eyes closed and did her little "mmmmm" of contentment and I almost cried. I didn't mean the story to be a question of whether or not she felt that way, I was just thinking aloud and she loves stories from when I was little. After she fell asleep, I stayed there for a bit longer rubbing her little back and remembering my dad. When I was sick at his house (my parents are divorced so I get two Get Well stories) he would have me snuggle up to him, no matter how sick I was and would tell me he was going to Love me well. He said he could make me better just by loving me all better. And miraculously not once did he catch what I had; bewildering and something I wish I had inherited. So tonight, I held my sleeping bean, so big and so small and Loved her Well. 

No comments:

Post a Comment