Our daughter is teething. Those top two teeth, extra wide and unevenly spaced, will endear her to us in a thousand ways. But right now they are the source of feverish fuss and wailing.
So I hold her close, rest her head against my chest, skin on skin. We rock. I murmur. I kiss her head, slightly damp. I breathe her in.
I think: millions of moms before me have done this. Thousands have written about it, probably hundreds have blogged.
But this is my daughter and this is our moment.
I shiver because the awe of that is bigger than my body, this room in which we sit, bigger even than the moon above our house, our blue planet, spinning, bigger than the dark.
All the moms and daughters who have gone before enter me in a rush, and I hold the moment steady, low in my belly.
I rock and I murmur and I breathe. Long slow breaths, because I’m holding the universe’s universe. I’m holding on.
This is a Perfect Moment Monday post inspired by Lori Lavender Luz. Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. On the last Monday of each month we engage in mindfulness about something that is right with our world. Everyone is welcome to join. Read more perfect moments on the blog hop.