These are the glory days. I hold Wylie to my chest. I stare at her profile. I peer into her eyes. I clasp her plump feet and toes in my hands. I kiss her cheeks. I kiss her hair. I kiss her forehead. I kiss her knees. I kiss her hands. I take and take and take her in over and over and over. Time with her is so precious.
Because I know. I read the posts and see. There are so many moms just like me who held their children in adoring affection and now cannot hold them in their arms. Graves are filled by the most terrible, vicious enemy and the victims survive robbed and maimed.
I pause sometimes. I know I make an assumption that she will die before any of the rest of us. I cannot know that, so I correct myself and remember that not one of us know how long we will have on earth. We do not know the end. We certainly and truly only have the present.
So I look into all their eyes. I touch their hair. I give big hugs. I pray and pray for mercy. Time is fleeting, but real things happen in it. Things that when remembered bring courage and comfort and happiness. And so many of the real things are so ordinary. I cannot despise the ordinary.
She is here. She is fulfilling her purpose and we get to be here for it together.
