Tonight Aria needed company as she travelled from wake to sleep. I sang about tomorrow and eased her into her crib. Resting my hand on her back, I sang about finding peace in living a life worth living.
If I lifted my palm, sad sobs slipped off her lips.
Finally, I ended up beside her. She shifted close, until her whole body was resting against the bars.
She reached out and stroked my knee for a time. I became quiet. We listened to each other for a time.
She just stared out into the darkening eve.
Minutes ticked by.
We both stared into the dark.
I was surprised she could remain so still and contemplative for so long.
Perhaps it’s the change to cots at school. She was the first, bold and independent, switching alone to her cot more than two months early. But now, joined by friends in her naps, she longs to be near those she loves in sleep as well.
It’s all phases. I stayed there until her eyes dropped and closed, until her breathing went deep and heavy, rivaling the breathing of the fan a few feet away.
I savored the moment. I felt whole there with her.
I’ve been going almost entirely tech down when I’m with her over the past several weeks. So instead of passing these long minutes with news reports of elections or of maneuving resources across a hexagonal game field, I simply lived and loved.
It was the slowest and best half hour of my week.
Thanks Aria. You make me such a better person. You’ve filled my life and made me whole. I love you. I love every moment with you. Thanks for being you 😉