what stays the same

She has chosen to shorten our bedtime ritual.
And so, the other night I leaned over her to give her a good night kiss,
and then headed downstairs,
surprised to hear, on my way down,
“Daddy, do you want to snuggle?”
Well, I turned right around,
went back up and laid down beside her.

As I lay beside her,
she grabbed my arm and pulled it over
so she could rest her head on it.
“You remember how I used to do this?” she asked.
“Yes,” was all I said,
full of memory.
“Now it’s uncomfortable,” she said,
“Don’t do that.”

And I didn’t point out that I hadn’t done that—
that she had.
Nor was I sad—
regretting what had been and was no more.
I simply said, “Okay,”
retracted my arm,
and was glad we loved each other—
however that was and would be expressed.

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One thought on “what stays the same

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