A Moment In Time

She sat quietly across the table from him. His eyes smiled at her, loving her. He held her small hands in his large plump ones, enveloping them, keeping them warm like he did her spirit. It was like it always was, and for a moment in time, she remembered what it was like to feel whole and content and safe, to feel assured and capable.

He did that for her, he always had - he reassured her things would be OK and had her believing there was nothing she couldn't do, cope with, handle. He believed in her - in her goodness, her strength, her kindness, her absolute ability to take on the world and make it better at the same time.

The lines on his face told the story of his journey - a tale of a man who grabbed life by the balls and hung on tight yelling "yeeeeeeeee - haaaaaaaaaw" while it whipped him around, the bruises of experience turning to wisdom over time. Yup, he lived, and he taught her to do the same.

Deep, weathered crevices wove through thickened skin - a criss-cross pattern of the joy and pain worn like a badge for all to see. He was the bravest man she knew - in many different ways.

Those lines there... they were from the hundreds of times his eyes filled with love as he looked at his wife preparing a meal or tending the garden. The origin of those lines is what taught her of commitment, of lifetime love, of family and belonging.

Those ones there... they're from all that time spent in the hospital and the way-too-many-surgeries he endured with grace and dignity. Yes, he taught her about being strong, about persevering, about determination, and about hope. He taught her by how he lived through it, how he remained open, when he had more reasons than most to close.

Those ones there told of the delight and worry of being a parent. She never once questioned his love for her, she knew she mattered. He had guided her through peer pressure and bolstered her when she felt she wasn't enough. He'd taught her the first person she had to please was herself - like, "if you build it, they will come"- only different. His love was the most complete pure love she'd known, and if she wasn't sure of it before, she knew looking into his eyes now that he had shaped the core of her and that gift was a part of her every day.

Their eyes stayed locked as they loved each other. She wanted to keep the moment close, as if in a frame on her wall, to take down and hold and cherish and feel - just like she did in that moment in time. She wanted to memorize every detail - everything she was feeling, every tingle in her body, how it felt to be close to him again, how when he looked at her his eyes filled with love and pride and respect. And... every one of those lines, because what they represented to her was so profound and soothing she couldn't bear the thought she might forget even one.
She felt herself trying to capture it, hold it close.

And then she woke up.

Her eyes welled warm and overflowed like a waterfall streaming down her face in an instant as the eruption of emotions took her over. The ache of not having him in her world had been there since he'd passed, and she knew now it would never go away completely. She grieved desperately for the loss of him, but even in that pain, she felt him so strongly, and she knew she'd been given a gift.

He came to visit her, to touch her, to remind her. He felt her needing him, and he was there, as he'd always been. Perfect.

She felt a wave of calm wash over her, filled with love for him and from him she heard herself say out loud " Thank you Daddy " .