The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour.

William Blake

It’s funny how small and vast my world became at once when Midori was born.  When she was brand new, to cradle her and watch her sleep was like holding the entire universe in my arms.  If you could somehow count my love for her, it would outnumber the sand.    She will be two and a half soon.  She’s smart as a whip.  The other day she was talking about her new barn and it’s silo.  Kevin said, “she knows more words than I do.”  She does struggle with the pronouns “me” and “you”.  I know it’s not because of anything to do with her cognitive ability, but rather because even I don’t understand where she ends and I begin.  The best way we’ve found to sleep is called, “sharing faces”.  This is when we lie down together her face on mine.  That’s how it’s always been with us – no space in between.  I worry about how my illness is going to impact her.  She is so sensitive and already showing loving concern for me.  What will happen post surgery when she can’t hug me as robustly or lie down on my chest or take a bath with her mama?  What will happen when she asks me to, “carry you?” (translation – carry me), and I am not able to lift her.  Will she be afraid when I look like a creepy alien with no hair/eyebrows/eyelashes?  My prayer is that she will feel secure, loved, and treasured and not afraid or rejected.  Please also hold her in your thoughts and prayers if you would.  I know someday that “you” and “me” will have different meanings.  I know someday we will have to be apart if only a little.  I just don’t know if she’s ready.  I know I’m not.