15 Months Old

Rain falls steadily outside the window,
puddles dot the yard and fill ruts in the drive.

She bundles close on my lap,
head finding rest in the crook of my arm.
Her fingers scratch my back and arm as she nurses,
and I look and look into her eyes.

She loves me.
She really loves me.

So much so that I gaze away in disbelief and wonder.

My eyes trace her pupils, notice the shades of blue,

the lines of light that seem living, changing.

Where, oh where did such a creature come from?

She is all gift.

And I hope her joy is always so full.

And oh, I see my reflection in the tiny black circles gazing my way...

and I whisper low,

"I love you too."

I am whispering to her,

but seeing my reflection I am caught off guard,

knowing that I don't say those kind words to myself.

But I like what I see for once...

and feel like I am good at something...

that maybe I am a good...

Milky smile completes thought and says, "Mom." And then continues nursing again.
She reaches and points to my nose, eyes, mouth, hair. Always.

And always in that order. It is her way.

And I lean, and kiss her forehead,wipe hair away from face.
Massage little feet.

And give thanks.

Always give thanks.