This morning our youngest, Addison,
came and crawled up in bed in between Scott and I.
Hunkering down in the warm slip of space between us,
he positioned his chilly feet perfectly on the backs of my calves,
and his breathing began to settle into a sleepy rhythm.
Once my legs rewarmed themselves, I feel back asleep, too.
The cool of the room and the heaviness of covers can do that to you.
I awoke to feel a small finger tracing the lines of my face.
Over each eye. The slope of my nose. The dip above my lip.
And finally, a flat palm laid against the warmth of my cheek.
Addie finished tracing my face and rolled over for his dad to snuggle him.
Sometimes I have trouble holding onto these fleeting moments with my boys
but there was a sweetness in his touch I don't want to forget.
These are the rare snippets of day that I want tuck away into my heart
and hold on to.
This is love.