until the surface {silent sunday}

My daughter grabbed my hand, twirling me into a dance. I hesitated for a second, glancing at the mixing bowl on the counter, the dirty spatula in my hand. But her smile convinced me to drop everything, and we whirled gladly around the kitchen together. I soaked in her giggles, her blond hair lit on fire by the sun, her blue eyes that always seemed so much older than her years. She sang loudly with Blossom Dearie: Do I love you? Oh my, do I. Darling, deed I do, then she burst out suddenly, ‘Oh Mommy, I want us to always stick together!’ I started to nod as she went on, ‘but even when we get apart, we always find each other in the end.’ And in that moment I felt something break; there was water streaming from my eyes, but also pouring over me, somewhere deep within. Her childlike heart spoke so much wisdom, laughing kindly at my fear of death and dying; her words spun around and around me and I knew she was true. We would find each other, around some corner, behind some door, somewhere in the end.