My girl

Daddy Kara sleeping

I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside I’ve got the month of May (or June in this case, as I’ve only just had the idea for this post).

She is the reason I like to spend a few extra minutes in bed every morning. I cradle her to me, enveloping her body, wrapping her in a cosy blanket formed of my torso, arms and legs.

I watch the gentle, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. I listen to her breathe. I smell the faint odour of soap on the back of her neck. I feel the warmth of her semi-naked body against mine.

Sometimes the moment lasts only a few seconds, the eye of the needle at the heart of another hurricane of a day. Sometimes it’s 20 minutes or more, an oasis of calm and contemplation. I think about how lucky I am to have her in my life, even though sometimes that sentiment isn’t always reciprocated and she can on occasion (quite a few occasions, actually) drive me to distraction.

It doesn’t matter. I know that our love is mutual and strong and will stand the test of time. And most days that knowledge is confirmed when she stirs from her slumber, rolls over to face me and lights up the room with a smile that could outshine a lighthouse.

“I love you, daddy,” she says.

And that is all I will ever need.

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