Grace

Sometimes, you can be still.

Sometimes, a moment can push past the barriers and embrace you, engulf you.

And, briefly, everything else just naturally falls away.

Mental clarity? Perhaps. Or else you just remember how to feel.

I walked towards her as she was sitting at the dining room table, colouring-in. The radio was on. I was taking my coffee cup into the kitchen. Hunched over her precious work, her brow furrowed and her tongue poking out slightly, absentmindedly. Lost in her task.

At first, disturbing her wasn't on my agenda. But there was something about the angle of her head, about her frown, as she drew.

A memory. I heard my mother's voice.

"You always looked so moody when you were really concentrating."

Coffee cup placed by her side, I seized my chance. I placed my hands on her shoulders and then slid them up to her cheeks and gently held the unbelievably soft and warm flesh there.

Every time… it still takes my breath away at how perfect she is.

She let out a giggle and an "Aww Mummy!" and looked up at me. I bent over her, our noses touching, her eyes parallel with my chin and my chin with her eyes. She dropped her pen and hooked her arms around my head.

I moulded my thumbs against the sides of her nose, pressing them outwards along her cheeks, like clay. All the while, kissing her home-cut fringe, her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her chin.

We both giggled.

The music played as everything… everyone, around us was forgotten. White noise. Meaningless.

Just us girls.

The kitchen spotlights flashed into her blue eyes as she smiled up at me, laughing.

I saw it all.

Evolution.

Generation.

Perfection.

My reason for being here.

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