You are so soft. You with your rumply hair that is too long since your Mama hasn’t cut it in ages. You are just barely snoring and there is a smudge of dirt – or dinner – on your nose.
Come to think of it, I’m not sure if we brushed your teeth tonight. But you think I am a good Mama since I let you stay up late and eat cookies.
I tucked you in and kissed you and whispered what a good child you are into your ear. I hope your spirit heard it because I think I forget to tell you often enough when you are awake.
I wish I could wrap you up, just like you are now, and save some of your sweetness for later. You, in peacefulness, is surely a cure-all for a bad or sad day. I can’t believe how I get caught up in the silly stuff like, did you do your chores or, how you were naughty to your siblings. It doesn’t seem so important now.
If I have one wish right now, it is please, please don’t let me forget how precious and important you are. During the waking hours it is so easy to get lost, to look past the special soul inside you and let the day fly by without any appreciation.
Grab my hand.
Look me in the eye.
Hold my leg.
Pull at my sleeve.
Remind me to stop and see you.
Before you are grown and gone.
Peace and health,