As I held her tonight, smoothing her hair and wiping her tears I remembered all of the times I have held her. She will be 8 next month. This could, very well, be the last time.
I tried to memorize the dark, damp lashes falling on freckles and the curve of her nose. I tried to hold on to the smell of tears, sweaty body and damp baby-shampooed hair all mixed together creating a fragrance sweet to this Mommy's nose.
And, when she fell asleep, I recorded the sigh and the snores, and the heavy feel of her body as it draped all over and around me.
Another one of life's little injustices broke her tender heart tonight. My heart broke knowing that there will be a million and one more injustices in her lifetime. Most not so little and all heart wrenching.
She won't always come to me. I may not always be there. So, as I held, I prayed. Finding peace for this Mommy's soul from the One who created her and knows all of her hurts. Knowing that He saves all of those sweet alligator tears in a bottle and is the only Healer of broken hearts and life's little injustices.