The most precious things are so simple. I love how my daughter loves me. It is intense, vulnerable, open and with a childish sweetness that I adore in her. Every single time she goes to the grocery store with her sweet dad, she gets him to buy me a bouquet of flowers. They are different every time. First, I hear it in her voice as she comes into the house calling for me. Then I see it in her little face, so bright. so proud and so happy. She has to tell me why she selected the bouquet and tell me about each (well almost each) flower. Somehow, there is something of my favorite in the bouquet, the color, the flower. I treasure it.
Every time she goes to her grandmother's house she brings me back a sucker. It is almost always a grape or coconut because those are my favorites. I adore it.
Every time she does a portrait of me I have on a red or purple dress because those are my favorite colors. I love it.
I have a purple necklace she gave me (yep purple) that I love. She went with her dad to a craft market. He told her she could have one thing. She picked it one she liked and one she thought I would like. He told her she could only have one, just to stand by his rule. She picked MINE. Her heart is as big as a little girl's could be, it makes me proud. How in the world after all she has been through, does she have the courage to love again, so hard and so deep. I have always said she is the strongest soul I know.
I love how she loves me.
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