Continuation of the Story
Maybe it was the light. A moment in her growth. But tonight as I rocked her to sleep, she looked like me.
And then she smiled at me. A different kind of smile. A smile that says that we belong to each other. More than connectedness. A sameness of essence.
And for a second, we were the same. The present and future woman. The continuation of the story. And the smile was knowingness and acknowledgment and threads of eternity.
Then she curled in my arms and drifted to sleep. Relaxed and secure, enveloped by her predecessor. Again.
She knows that I will care for her until it is her time.