This may be an exaggeration. It may be wishful thinking. It may be putting too much weight on one good day…
But I think we’ve crossed some kind of line. Yesterday was a pretty good day. The parts that weren’t good were mostly in…my head.
Today was a totally good day, and I’m looking at Rory with fresh–and more loving–eyes. I’m hearing her differently. Every hug isn’t an attempt to steal my attention away. Her little family recitation–that my Nini, that my Sam, that my Wallet, that my Mommy-Daddy–isn’t possessive, it’s adorable. How could I have missed that–even amidst her struggles, and I’m not making light of them or blaming myself entirely–she’s overjoyed to be part of our family?
Last night she hugged me at bedtime and said “my mommy!” And I said that’s right, your mommy–not in the resigned, I’ve said this fourteen times today tone I’ve been known to use, but happy right back at her, and added “your mommy, forever and ever and always.” And she giggled, and hugged tighter, and I thought–maybe she did understand that. Maybe it means something to her.
And maybe I fell just a little bit in love.