The first time was in the worship service. I finished playing the keyboard. Callie was sitting with her Grandpa; all other relatives were elsewhere, including her mom, who was home with a fever. As I headed for the pews, Callie caught my eye and beckoned me to her. She snuggled up to me until it was time for her to leave the sanctuary for Children’s Church.
We attended our neighbor’s wedding in the afternoon, just Callie and I. We sat around tables in the refurbished Baker Street Train Station for the wedding and reception. She pressed in close to me because she didn’t know anyone else. Even after she connected with her friend (the bride’s daughter) and became more comfortable with other girls, she still kept coming back to me to sit on my lap a bit.
This evening the ladies of the family were splayed in front of the TV, watching a PBS cooking show. Callie invited me to sit with her on the floor. Initially declining, I changed my mind and sat down. She curled right up to me.
After a bit, I knew she was getting tired. So I carried her to her room and helped her with her PJs. Then I carried her upstairs to brush her teeth. Then I read a story to her. Then I carried her back down and set her back with her sister and mom, where she fell asleep. Then I carried her to bed.
I am working to savor these times. It’s been a long time since Caty’s sat on my lap; it won’t happen again. When Anna was 6, I used to joke that when she turned 7 I wouldn’t be able to carry her because she’d be too big. She’s 12 now and quite independent.
The sands of time slip quickly through the fingers. It’s hard to hold on to.
Lord, give me a heart of wisdom, and teach me to number my days aright.