Sometimes in the middle of the night when everyone else is sound asleep, I wake up and hear myself going -
aaaah. . .
You see, there’s this little angel laying 2 feet from me, in the form of our little granddaughter, who earlier this year moved from a few minutes from out home where overnighters were a weekly occurrence to a six hour drive across the mountains -
where we drive by clear, crisp, mountain streams and climb mountain passes, eat our favorite homemade chocolate ice cream at the same little restaurant perched on a hill overlooking the
where puffs of white clouds dot the bright blue sky -
and there must be a symphony playing somewhere as I watch the birds soar and twirl, keeping a perfect rhythm as they float overhead.
Somewhere in the midst of all the hugging and kissing, catching up and how was your drive, I hear words like -
Kindergarten. . .
and counting by fives. . .
and when she smiles there’s two front teeth missing.
How is that possible?
Wasn’t she just a baby yesterday?
So, maybe as I lay there in the middle of the night -
maybe . . .
all I wanted to do was -
listen to her sleep. . .