The following conversation happens three or four nights every week, whenever Shawn is the one to check on Eliza right before we go to bed. The lights are out and we're laying in bed just about to fall asleep.
Me: Is she OK?
Shawn: Yes
(pause)
Me: Is she breathing?
Shawn: Yes
(pause)
Me: Is she beautiful?
Shawn: (sigh) Yes
(pause)
Me: Does she know how much we love her?
Shawn: Yes, now go to sleep.
It feels so important that Eliza knows how much I love her at every minute of the day. I hope she can feel the love that is coming out of my every pore. I adore that little girl, everything about her, and I want her to know that. I think this must be genetic, or maybe a Mom thing because I recently found a Valentine's Day card my Mom sent me three or four years ago. The line "Please know how much we love you" was repeated four times.
Thank you, Mom. I now am beginning to understand how much you love me. But you can keep telling me anytime you want.
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