Della

Della and I took a walk the other day. We wanted to 'check' on some things. We walked down to the lake to see the peace sign and look for the gold fish. The peace sign was waning and the gold fish weren't as abundant as we'd hoped....sometimes there are millions. We settled, happily, for rock throwing.

I held onto her hood, so she wouldn't launch herself off the rock we were standing on, as she put her whole little body into the hurl. She came up short a few times. Then she sailed one into the water with a satisfying kerplop.

"I call that a good sound, Momma." she says.

"Me too, baby." And I feel a flood of gratitude for the love that defies explanation.

I say it over and over in my head till we get home and I can write it down.

I call that a good sound, Momma.

She's small and sturdy and has this special something that I can only think to call poise. It's coupled with a touch of wisdom and a witchy cackle. If I could freeze her, I might, but I wouldn't have the thrill of watching her bloom and shine. Everyday. Oh my.