All you need

Sometimes all you need is to have someone in your life to care for, a daughter sleeping soundly in the next room, and to know that you've already packed your lunch for the day and that it's all ready to go.

Hold

After fixing her hair and emptying a new bottle of hairspray-after the breakfast and the flowers and the friends and the family, it was just she and I alone. The sunlight through the windows landed on the sofa where we both lay quiet, and when she fell asleep, I watched her long body, her big girl, her young woman-my one and only beloved child. I watched the ringlets in her hair, that with a supply of chemicals and a scalding hot iron, we so painstakingly made together; they somehow looked resigned now, draped across her shoulder.

I watched her poorly painted toes and her perfect pink nails, and when she stirred I snuggled up behind her the way I used to when she was born. Only now our bodies together were a variation of the way they once were. Back-to-back we slept when she was new, and back then, each time I woke and rolled over, I couldn't believe the gift waiting there for me, again.

This morning, as she rested her long legs and her feet sore from high heels, I pressed my mouth against the pale skin on her neck and breathed in. But all I could smell was hairspray, and I smiled at the recollection of only a few short hours ago, when I treated each curl just hoping they would hold.

I tried again to find her scent but couldn't, and as we lay together in the heat, under the click and swoosh of the ceiling fan, I whispered, "You're my favorite person."

"You, too," she whispered her reply with ease, then lifted her hand to rest it on mine.

I didn't love you better back then, I thought to myself. But I miss holding you in my arms. You weren't more beautiful than you are right now, but I miss freely kissing your face. I wasn't happier when you were small, I just long to sing to you like I did-and watch your eyes close, and see your hands the moment you slip into sleep, and smell your sweet baby skin, and believe that time will stand as still as those perfect curls we so painstakingly, and so joyfully made together.

I know what love is

I know what it looks like, tastes like, and feels like. I know what it isn't and what it is, what it can and cannot fix. I know what love should never be, and can be; I know the difference when it's false and forced from when it's real, and makes as much sense as blueberry jam on toast.

Hello & goodbye

For no reason at all, I am awake at 5:00 am. The light outside is mysterious without weight, the privacy an unforgettable gift. And though with the sun's quick rising comes something new, so does begin the end of a perfect morning moment.

Morning

Woke to clenched teeth, a break in heat, and dreams of the Snowy Owl.

The return

Years ago, when I was broken hearted, not because he didn't love me, but because he did, I could never have imagined where all that heartache would lead. Inevitably, it lead me to a place I return to each time life is unkind. It's a place where I'm again reminded what it's like to be free, to laugh hard, to give without hesitation, and to love without conditions. It's a place where I speak a language only he understands, and where the colors he paints with are also the colors I use.

I may never be with him again, the one who christened me Little Tornado, but because of him I know the woman inside that I'm still trying to get back to. And whether or not he holds my hand again, or smiles at me while we cross the street, I will forever know the place of beauty and peace, of coolness and heat, that place in me I return to long after everyone else has gone home.

Yeah