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Whispers and Kisses

Stroking softest cheeks.  Tracing perfect ears.  Running downy hair through fingers that cannot get enough.  A perfectly pretty package.  Such gifts of grace as these.  Four of them I have been given.  Three still near to me.  While gifts bring such joy, their loss brings such pain.  But when my sleepy thoughts hear the beckoning to wander down that stony path of agony and weeping, I will say not today.  I cannot stop the tear that slips beneath my eyelid, but I can avoid the torrents calling out my name.  I press  trembling lips to littlest cheeks  and tell her these are kisses.  And she will love them so.  But not as much as mommy.  I whisper near her ear.  A prayer of thanks to her Maker and that I will never forget.  Gifts formed in secret.  Healing wrapped in every touch.


 
My Maddie Grace

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