Chirky

Tonight Rayah woke up screaming. SCUH-REAAAMMMIINNNGGGGGGG. I went in to check on her, and realized that Daddy was weed-eating outsider her room. I guess it startled her awake, that big whirring noise. It seemed silly to ask him to stop, since I knew he wouldn't be out there for long, though she didn't realize that. So instead, I capitalized on the moment.

I picked Rayah up and settled into the glider, quietly whisper-singing one of my favorite hymns, listening to the sound of the engine outside. As I was singing she quieted down, and fell asleep again on my shoulder. Oh, the countless times I've held her exactly the same way, though back then she was so much smaller. It's been a long time since I've held Rayah when the rest of the house was quiet. Often I miss those newborn days, the late nights and early mornings of cuddling with my daughter.

I tried to memorize how her head felt warm against my cheek. I breathed in her sweet baby scent. I thought about how she's so much bigger now than she was nine-and-one-half months ago, but that my hand, with fingers splayed out, still covers her entire back. I held her securely against my chest, clutching her, not wanting that moment to end.

It did end, but I can still feel her against my cheek. And I'm treasuring that memory, not wanting it to fade away.