The Rocking Chair

Millie has never been one for cuddling. Try as we might to curl up with her on the couch or infamously attempting to let her sleep in our bed, it just never happens. In fact, the only time we're able to get a few minutes of time like that are when we read to her. Once the last page of the last book is closed, she's off to new adventures.

Over the past couple weeks of sickness, though, it changed. She would slowly totter to the side of the chair and look at me expectantly. I scooped her onto my lap and she tucked her head right under my chin. She began a routine of grabbing her two favorite blankets and her stuffed monkey, pushing them under each arm while we rocked. She wiggled until she was comfortable, and then sighed.

It became an almost hourly tradition. Sometimes, we would sing lots of The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Once in a while, I would play soft music on her clock radio perched high on her dresser. But most of the time, we just rocked in silence. She'd listen to my heartbeat with her ear pressed to me, and I would stroke her soft, thin hair. I didn't know when she was awake and when she was asleep. It was so peaceful I nearly drifted to sleep more than once.

I'm so thankful that she's feeling better, and that those itchy red bumps are nearly faded now. I'm glad we aren't keeping constant tabs on her temperature. But I hope these moments in the rocking chair don't fade- even if I need them more than she does.