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.