I was just on the verge of sleep when I heard the door creak. Tiny footsteps slowly tiptoe toward my bed. Climbing onto the trunk at the foot of the bed, she stealthily made her way–one knee at at time–up toward the pillows. I lay there silent; listening….as she rustles the covers attempting to cocoon herself in the warmth. Finally she settles in–head on pillow, breathing slow and steady—and she reaches over and gently slips her hand into mine.
I squeeze her fingers gently. Whisper, “Are you ok?”
“I had a bad dream,” she replies. “Laying by you makes me feel better. Can I stay in your bed, mommy?”
I kiss her fingers gently. Softly mumble, “Of course.”
I feel her relax and lay there waiting for her to fall back to sleep. I stroke her hair and let her warm exhales caress my cheek.
I swear it was just yesterday that I was holding her close and feeling her breath on my cheek for the very first time. How quickly the time has passed……how can it be that her once-tiny hand has grown to nearly half the size of my own?
I lay there relishing this moment wherein holding my hand is her perfect means of seeking comfort. And I pray it will always be so.
*This post is part of an online community. A prompt is given every Friday and we are encouraged to just free-write for 5 minutes and post it to our blogs without over-thinking or editing. If you’d like to participate, you can get more info and link-up on this site. This week’s writing prompt was, “Comfort.”