My Angel
I was small.
Fragile.
So delicate with hair was so thick, so black, and so straight
It was bright that day, so I kept my eyes closed tightly. I could see nothing.
I felt everything, though.
The warmth of her cradle
The strength of her hold
And the kindness of her kiss on my soft, bald forehead.
I smelled her, too. Dove.
So pure and so natural.
I heard everything.
Laughter, crying, “oohs and ahhs”
I heard her say, “Isn’t she beautiful? Her name is Taylor.”
I knew she was talking about me. I could just tell. When she said my name I could feel her smile beating down on my thin eyelids.
I could feel her heart open wide for me.
Still, I did not know who she was.
I could tell her touch from the others, though. It was gentle, like feathers of a baby bird brushing against my tender, red cheek.
I could tell her cry from the others, for it was a sweet cry.
I could tell her embrace from the others.
Still, I did not know who she was.
She held me tightly, so swaddled in blankets I could not feel my tiny toes.
I slowly, hesitantly began to open my eyes.
It was so bright, though. I had to shut them immediately.
It was quiet. I wanted to see her.
I tried again. I opened my eyes slightly, just enough to see her, for I had felt her love for what seemed like an eternity.
There she was.
Her cheek bones so pronounced and her nose so defined
Her strong, feminine hands that gripped me so tightly
Her deep-set, russet eyes stared straight into mine.
She looked at me, and said, “I love you, Taylor.”
I knew she was talking to me.
I didn’t even know what this word was, what this word meant, but I knew I loved her too, maybe even more than she knew.
I opened my mouth to say it back, but nothing came out.
I had no voice, but I had to let her know.
I wrapped my miniature fingers around her forefinger ever so lightly.
She looked at me harder and smiled again.
She knew I loved her, too. She knew she would be my Angel.
I was small.
Fragile.
So delicate with hair was so thick, so black, and so straight
It was bright that day, so I kept my eyes closed tightly. I could see nothing.
I felt everything, though.
The warmth of her cradle
The strength of her hold
And the kindness of her kiss on my soft, bald forehead.
I smelled her, too. Dove.
So pure and so natural.
I heard everything.
Laughter, crying, “oohs and ahhs”
I heard her say, “Isn’t she beautiful? Her name is Taylor.”
I knew she was talking about me. I could just tell. When she said my name I could feel her smile beating down on my thin eyelids.
I could feel her heart open wide for me.
Still, I did not know who she was.
I could tell her touch from the others, though. It was gentle, like feathers of a baby bird brushing against my tender, red cheek.
I could tell her cry from the others, for it was a sweet cry.
I could tell her embrace from the others.
Still, I did not know who she was.
She held me tightly, so swaddled in blankets I could not feel my tiny toes.
I slowly, hesitantly began to open my eyes.
It was so bright, though. I had to shut them immediately.
It was quiet. I wanted to see her.
I tried again. I opened my eyes slightly, just enough to see her, for I had felt her love for what seemed like an eternity.
There she was.
Her cheek bones so pronounced and her nose so defined
Her strong, feminine hands that gripped me so tightly
Her deep-set, russet eyes stared straight into mine.
She looked at me, and said, “I love you, Taylor.”
I knew she was talking to me.
I didn’t even know what this word was, what this word meant, but I knew I loved her too, maybe even more than she knew.
I opened my mouth to say it back, but nothing came out.
I had no voice, but I had to let her know.
I wrapped my miniature fingers around her forefinger ever so lightly.
She looked at me harder and smiled again.
She knew I loved her, too. She knew she would be my Angel.