Daddy

They were real tears with Monday’s hug. Speaking volumes of a bond’s depth. He is hers. She adores him. Goodbye is a sacrifice.

She’s been looking for him this week. Asking if he’ll be here when we pull up to a store. “No, Hannah, love. Daddy’s at youth camp. He’ll be back Friday.” Her two-year-old world is flipped. What is youth camp? And when really is Friday? Counting down sleeps is still hard to fathom.

Last night her groggy little body arose quietly. Crept up onto the bed. In his spot. He always offers a mid-night snuggle. No questions asked. She lay there in his empty spot. Heavy breaths finally gave way to sleep. Four hours later she awoke and returned to her own bed. Not a word was said. It didn’t have to be.

Friday’s coming, baby.

Friday’s coming.

– Her heart is beautiful.