We arrived in MI and all the kids said “Hi” to Grandma and promptly went to reacquaint themselves with their toys that we had left here. That gave Mom, Janet and I a chance to chat and relax. Maranatha showed up after a bit, but she had found a tag so she just sat on a stool and sucked on her fingers and played with her tag. Then, all of a sudden she perks up and says, “Daddy’s here!”
My heart kind of stopped and I looked around thinking that maybe I had misunderstood her . . “What, honey?”
She jumped up and ran, “Daddy’s here!” She stopped at the end table next to me and picked up a picture of our family that Janet had sitting out and started naming the family members starting with Daddy. She was Daddy’s little girl. My poor baby.
In some ways I feel like Daddy is here, too. How, after all this time, can it still seem so unreal?