While I was out alone one rare evening, I texted my husband. “How are things?” I typed. He was holding down the fort with our three young daughters and I felt it only right for me to check in.
I missed the very first time my 6-year-old daughter scored a goal. She played hockey for 7 months last season, and I was at every single game. I enjoy watching her have fun. I love seeing her master new skills. Her little feet carry her so quickly across the ice. Her smile permeates through the cage on her helmet.
Tonight, I watched my 6-year-old dance. She heard the music playing in the kitchen while I was washing up the dinner dishes and came running excitedly. I usually partake in the dancing, at her request. But on this night, her movement strikes me. It holds me still in my place. And so I just stand back and watch.