This morning, not too long after the sun rose in the sky,
I crept into my parents’ bedroom, and placed the baby in bed, nestled in between her Bubbie and Zayde Bear.
From my room I can hear giggles and squeals escaping from the doorway,
“You are my Sunshine”,
an impeccable Grover impersonation,
and more “I love you”s than I can count,
wafting through the hall.
This is lovely.
This is bright.
This is what I used to do with my grandparents.
This is what life is all about.