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 Columbia
River ,
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. . .
