turning six

Zinni’s turning six this week, and I’m not sure I have the words to express what I’m feeling. 

It’s in remembering the toddler with few words but many sounds who I befriended through hours in the backyard and doing puzzles on the floor. 

It’s in reminiscing on the head that rested on my shoulder as she slept, the hand that reached to hold mine, the toes whose nails I’ve painted. 

It’s in the memories of her wearing her shoes always on the wrong feet and her sunglasses always upside down; of her getting all her cozy blankets for our stroller walks; of wrapping her up in her bath towel and singing as I swing her in my arms. 

And then, all of a sudden, it’s now. 

It’s the girl I’ve taught to read; the girl who takes such tender care of her baby doll; the girl who loves to have her hair done and can even do it herself now; the girl I took on the sweetest birthday date to choose her birthday outfit. 

Yet, it’s the girl who still reaches for my hand, who still asks to do puzzles together on the floor, who still wants to be wrapped in her bath towel and sung to and swung. 

This feeling: it’s nostalgia and amazement, gratitude and love.