I'll keep you Confany

"I'll keep you confany (company)." spoke the younger to the older with creased forehead the night the oldest girl had to sleep on the hallway floor beside the bathroom the same day she turned 7 and consumed way too many treats of delicious nature and sweet celebration. And then gentle-eyed sister sidled up beside her and made camp for the night.

A moment is made and a bond is given glue.

And mom turns around corner and peeks at little hands pulling back hair with purpose, both bent over porcelain, and her mama eyes well up at the blessed offering, shown by the small, but big, gesture. And later again in the softest of whispers, when little heads go down, "It's okay, you can take my pillow," noses almost touching. Beloved spot for pretty little head and downy hair--is sacrificed for the first night in 3 years.

And mom stands quiet, barely breathing as words are exchanged in the still air of harmony. A sweet fragrance of words fill the space: I'm so glad I have you. And me, too. So glad I have you and Reesie. Because if I didn't, I would be lonely. Yeah, because mom and dad would be busy sometimes. Yeah--hundreds and hundreds of times busy. Hundreds and hundreds of times busy. So glad I have you. Lonely.

And mom is discovered before eyes close shut.

I prayed for her tonight, Mom.

Oh, really? What did you say?

I said, "Dear Jesus, thank you for Liv...." And then I forgot what else....Mouth frowns.

But the comforted remembers. The comforted cannot forget.

"She asked Jesus to make me feel better by the morning!"

Lullaby tunes of late nights past are hummed and sung to the older from the younger. And she is nourished by the giving of another...Baby mine, dry your eyes, lay your head close to my heart.....Please keep singing till I fall asleep, kay?

M'kay.

Please join Emily as she shares beautiful prose...