This evening,
after the light had disappeared behind the trees,
and the bath bubbles had washed away,
the baby settled into my cozy nook
as I settled into the crook of the plush chair in her nursery,
to read her a story.
We read this book
and, at about 10 pages in, my floodgates opened,
as I got lost in a deluge of tears,
sobs,
and tiny quakes, that rocked us both in the chair.
The book is about a baby growing older,
into a child,
and then into an adult,
and as I write about it now, the tears are streaming down my face, once more.
Someday reminds me of our favorite book of all time;
a book which leaves me speechless
in the wake of its heartbreaking beauty.
Just as the mother in the Someday story admits,
I too watch my baby sleep,
as I savor those tender moments of quiet and dreams,
and I too dream,
of the little person whom I’ve already grown to love more than life itself.
Someday I will get through this book without melting into a blubbering mess…
but that day most certainly is not today.