Vestiges

I had meant to tell Tiffany to be sure and pick up our pictures when they came due, because I certainly couldn't do it. I shouldn't have concerned myself so, since I did forget, and she didn't!

Her comments over the phone reminded me of my last night in Mississippi, and of my beloved KeetonKroutonHead.

I just *had* to get my fill of his plump little legs and hands once again. Watching Keller tentatively pull himself up on the edge of the couch only served to remind me of Keeton's lightening fast speed when it came to getting where he wanted to go!

Pulling out my file folder, I gazed upon those chubby cheeks, irrefutably designed to sucker in the nearest individual with their charm. Photo by photo I scrolled . . .

and then I stopped.

There she was.

I hadn't noticed before, nor had it seemed so prominent. Or had it? Had absence suddenly brought forward memories from days gone by? I saw Tiffany's baby face framed in the countenance of a little boy:


Deciding it was the dimple, and the curve of the mouth, I prepared to move on. But no ~ the mischevious twinkle in the eye - now THAT was a Tiffany trait! I hit the search button on the computer system, wondering if I had *that* photo scanned and saved.

To no avail.

Yet I happened across one picture of TiffanyTwoShoes that at least revealed a portion of what I was connecting the dots with:

Remembering how, as a toddler, Tiffany would comically toss out some funny face or unique noise to capture a stranger's attention caused me to smile. She was so markedly different from Bethany, so loveable . . .I had wanted to squeeze her until the love oozed out all over me so I'd never forget.

But I didn't forget.

I haven't forgotten.

I'm still in love.

In love with my little girl grown into an adult with a life full of fun and zest and responsibilities and frustrations and ups and downs.

Yes. The little girl that texted me the other day, while down for the count with a bug of some sort. The little girl in misery said, "Ma-ma!! :("

I couldn't do anything from afar but lift her up in prayer.

No tea. No toast. No tylenol.

I couldn't do anything but love.

I wonder how my Mom did it all those years. Miles and miles away from her child, her grandchildren.

And then, I realized.

She couldn't do anything but love.

Ah.

Sweet love it is.

She does it well.