When she retreats to her room for jammies, I don't really expect her to return, but for a goodnight kiss. I can feel my face smiling as she snuggles back down into the deep of the couch and returns to her game. I think I might lose her when I retreat for my own jammies, but there she remains. She even giggles when I call us the Jammie Girls.
We sit together, but not. Most nights she would be curled up for sleep by now... or on the verge of it, wrapped up in the pages of a far-off adventure. But one reason or another, the rambling on of the Cake Boss or the comfort of the little couch, has kept her in the living parts of the house tonight. When our half-attentions connect and we both laugh at the same line, I smile.
Somewhere in the world of growing up, in the space between needing me and not, we find a little bit of friendship. And more and more, I see who she is, and who she will be, instead of the wide-eyed girl she was just yesterday. I realize that there is no ordinary day, no ordinary hour. Every breath we navigate is new and unusual... and perhaps laced with the fear of the unknown. So in this sitting together, but not... I find the gift. I want to grasp it and hold it tight to my heart... for I know that in the blink of an eye, it will be time to let her fly.
: :
Thank you, Emily, for this return to Tuesdays Unwrapped.
When my heart was feeling stale, you pushed me to find a little bit of beauty... and I'm so glad not to have missed it.
12 comments :
This is where I first met you. I've missed Tuesday's Unwrapped. I love being "together" in the same room, yet not. It's living.
This is beautiful. You captured the scene of sitting with your child as the two of you commune and do your thing at the same time so well. I loved sitting with your words this morning.
(visiting from Chatting at the Sky)
My daughter is twelve, and we are just starting to enter this new place of comfortable togetherness. It's a gift I hope to unwrap more often than I do now.
This made me smile so wide... thinking of you two and your jammies and extraordinary everyday moments.
What a precious post. My tears flow. Your words "for I know that in the blink of an eye, it will be time to let her fly." That time comes to quick. My baby just started college. While we still find our time to sit, chat, cuddle - I miss the consistency of laughs, giggles, and smiles around the house. Blessings sweet friend from Tuesdays Unwrapped. I'm your newest follower.
We are so much in the similar place of grace unwrapped. I feel what you feel and see what you see, too. Thanks for sharing!
Lisa
www.moretobe.com
Sweetly beautiful, Dawn.
Visiting from Chatting at the Sky...
Oh, my son and I love "jammie days". We love to hang out, do individual activities, coming together to do fun stuff jointly. Those, like yours, are such special times.
Thank you for sharing...
Oh dawn! This post is ...magic. Mainly because it is so ordinary - and it brings me back to when my mom and I did this, when I was in my teens and we would sit together, but not. It was such a comfort to have her near then. I miss that time and now I see it with my own girls. You have captured the whole, beautiful scary thing so well here. I am thrilled you have joined us today.
This made my heart sing and my soul soar!!!! Beautiful....touching...sweet. You two have a special connection.
Makes me want to put on my jammies too.
Oh, nevermind, I already have them on. (is 7:30 too early??)
XOXOXOOX
Momma and I had times like that...I know you treasure them and I wonder if Momma ever thought things like this when we were together. I wish I had known then to pay attention.... :')
i'm sitting here in my red & white striped Christmas jammies! i may send you a photo ... :)
dawn ... your words are magic ... your heart ... magic. you put it together so beautifully, i felt like i was sitting right with you.
you are a beautiful momma and i can't wait to watch laura's wings lift her!
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