She's a light wherever she goes

№ 32 ☼ 1 minute ☼ 253 words

“Then she skips out of the room, more lamb than girl.” - Marco North / Still here / Impressions of an Expat

---

I’m always thinking of her.

Hot red forehead, hair smelling like pine bark and sweat.

Hands with monkey bar callouses tracing five-pointed stars in my palms, tickling. So small, still.

Bubbly giggles like butterfly wings flap.

I get home and we read a letter from her teacher. “She’s a light wherever she goes,” her teacher writes. She smiles big and proud.

She’s gone from being a little kid to being a big kid and I feel like I missed it. The pandemic stole my sense of time so I can’t remember how or when it happened.

But she still fits in my lap. She still needs my help getting dressed after a shower. She can wrap her long hair up in a towel all by herself, though.

I help her blow dry her hair and in the wisps of sun-blonde damp strands, I see a glimpse of her, older, poised, and perfect.

I dress her in candy cane PJ’s and bundle her up in a rainbow fleece blanket. She tells me she’s my burrito. She tells me to put hot sauce on her and take a bite. That’s her code for tickles. I take big bites and she squirms and laughs.

I feel her try to hug me through the blanket and of course she can’t but that doesn’t stop her from trying.

Who’s my favorite, I ask her.

Me, she says, like always.

She’s everyone’s favorite. A light wherever she goes.

I kiss her goodnight. I think, I really do have everything.