Because She Lets Me

by

CS gives Sun her baths; that is their special time together.  Occasionally, I am called on to do it and find I do it wrong—too little water, the wrong toys, I get water in her eyes.

But getting Sun down for the night, that is our special time.  I play no musical instrument; my fingers are not meant to be over piano keys or guitar strings.  But in getting Sun down for a nice night’s sleep, she becomes my instrument.  I know just when to pat her back as opposed to scratching it.  I know instinctively when to sing along with her lullaby music and when it will only work as a distraction to her.  I know when to rock, when to dip.  I know when to give her my fingers to squeeze.  I know when to hug her closer to me and when to release her to herself.

I know Sun’s nighttime habits the way a musician knows the limits of his instrument—when to call its bluff and when to heed its warning to proceed with caution.  I know the results I will get from tweaking a movement one way or the other.  I know when to come in for an encore and when to walk away and let the artisan’s work be left to play in the memory of the audience.

I know this because Sun and I have developed a routine over these 14+ months.  I know this because I am Sun’s mother and it’s my job to know.  I know this because I long to know it; I know the days of me strumming my daughter to sleep are limited and I best make the most of the precious time I have of her needing me as a part of her nighttime ritual.  And I do and will make best of this sacred time between us.  Because that is my choice as her mother.

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