I can't see your halo in the picture, but I know it's there.
I can feel the light of your presence everywhere.
It’s in your discarded toys, the keys I find hidden in the couch. The books scattered around your room. Your quiet heart that says so much.
Angel face, moments of grace dip into the everyday whenever we’re together.
I love you even when you're an angry duck, even when you raise my blood pressure.
I make motherhood up as I go, navigating scrapes and play dates. You learn and grow, absorbing all life’s little joys and its blows.
This interlude will only last so long, I know. It’s a comfort on difficult days; a worry when you demand I sing “You Are My Sunshine” for the tenth time.
I count my blessings as you count your toy cars.
I watch you throw ping pong balls around the house and stuff mini penguins in your pockets. I see the way you roughhouse with your Papa at the end of each day, giving us all the gift of laughter before bed.
And I marvel at the mind that dreamed all of this into existence.