She comes running from the bath, white blond hair tousled by the ducky towel she has been running around in and throws herself down in all her naked golden splendor on the pile of floor pillows next to my computer. Life radiates out of her face as she smiles up at me with her blues eyes and dark lashes and I think to myself that she is perfect. I want to catch her up and hold her to myself in a mommy squeeze that never ends, to keep her like this forever.
The days are coming when she will be aware of her beauty, or doubt it. When she will become self-conscious, when she will change from a girl to a woman, and I fear them and welcome them with equal intensity. I know that hurt will find her as it finds us all, and I want to shield her from it. I only hope that, as it is for most of us, great joy will find her also, the joys that can only be experienced with growth and change, and I hope that is the case for her; because even if I want to I can’t keep her this way forever.
As she moves on to gleefully join her brother killing ants next to the window, I just pray I don’t ever forget this moment.