Warming Up

I would wake up first usually.

With the three-hour time difference we were late to bed, late to rise girls when we traveled back East ~ opposite of the way we lived our lives back home.

I would sneak out of my childhood bed, that I loved sharing with Anna during our visits, and go downstairs for a cup of coffee, for some reason it was always better at my parents house.

She would wake up, realize I wasn’t there anymore and come snuggle on my lap, burying her head in my chest. I was proud of her, my beautiful daughter. She was kind, sweet and so loving.

By the third day of our visit it was no longer my lap she would cuddle up in but rather Nana’s, it always took her a few days to totally warm up after being apart for so long. Warming up in new surroundings was her norm, always staying by her mama’s side until she was comfortable. I wasn’t worried, just proud that she knew what she needed.

This morning as my nieces and nephew came down from their nights rest they climbed into their parent’s laps.

I miss my girl.

In Oregon I’ve had 10 months of my new norm, and the expectation of hearing footsteps running down the stairs and feeling my little one curl up with me is no longer there. I’ve created a new norm of kissing my girls pictures each night before I go to bed, thanking God for taking care of them one more day while we are apart and holding Anna’s blanket tight when the reality of my life hits me in the morning.

This morning, for some reason, I wanted so desperately for my girl to come running down the steps alongside her cousins and curl up in my lap.

I wanted to feel her sleepy head on my chest and squeeze her tight as we snuggled, both trying to adjust to the three-hour difference. This morning I needed my girl close so I could warm up to my new norm, a norm I don’t want but have no choice in settling into.