My heart melted tonight. It was bedtime for the wee one, yet he was not anxiously going into that slumberous world. He was cycling between sitting, telling me what was on his mind, and temporarily settling back down. After a few iterations, he had managed to fill me in on the latest in Afghanistan, burp twice, and eventually find a suitable spot in the bed.
His breathing was still far from rhythmic as he reached through the shadows and cradled the index finger of my right hand. What started as initial squeezing and playing with my hangnails ended ten minutes later with involuntary twitches as he crossed the sleep barrier. Despite being in one of those awkward positions that strains five separate muscle groups, I did not move once. I actually barely remember breathing.
The moments in life where pure affection is felt from such a little thing are not as frequent as they should be.
Gotta say that I sure do love them when they reach out and hit hard.
