A figure crept past the foot board of the bed as I raised my head from the pillow. As tall as she’s getting, it’s sometimes hard to distinguish my younger daughter from the older in the semi-darkness. “Mommy, I had a bad dream,” she whispered. I followed her back to her bed, tucked her under her covers. After removing the unreasonably large stuffed animal reclining beside her, I grabbed a blanket from her sister’s bed and laid down beside her.
It’s not often that I’m needed in the middle of the night any more. Even thunderstorms – which used to send both girls scrambling into our bedroom – don’t cause as much fear as they once did. My sleep these days is more often interrupted by my own age-induced tossing and turning than any outcries from a child. Somewhat nostalgic, I spent several minutes just laying there beside her, pondering the passing of time.
I saw the first light of dawn edging the corners of her window, and as I rose to return to my room, she turned to look at me. “It’ll be morning soon,” I said. “Can you see the light?” She looked at the window, then turned back to me, nodded and smiled.
I headed back to bed, thinking how nice it is to still be needed.
Read more celebrations of everyday moments at Tuesdays Unwrapped hosted by Chatting at the Sky.
photo courtesy morgue file