More Power

My child. My wonderful sweet child. She continues to amaze me. She seems to operate on a level of understanding that far surpasses what her father and I are capable of. She can be so sensitive, so in tune to things around her that it brings me to tears.

She's the loving little girl who came to me this morning and said, "Mom, I love having a baby sister. And Mom, I'm glad we named her Maya. I'm just so happy."

She's the amazing little person who used to look up at the shower ceiling and tell me she saw Papa John. He also hung out in the lampshades too apparently. Papa John was my Grandpa who passed away not long before I got pregnant with Abby.

We have a picture in our living room of Uncle Ricky. My Mom's younger brother who passed away over 10 years ago. About a month ago Abby reduced Mike and I both to tears when she came around and sweetly asked, "Mom, can you tell me more about my Uncle Ricky?"

I have a collection of colour slides that depict my Dad as a young boy. Abby and I have looked at them together using the ancient slide viewer I have. Just last week so grabbed a slide of my Dad and took it to her room. Later she showed me it was under her pillow. "I put it there so I could dream about Papa Steve." She called my Mom to tell her that Papa Steve was under her pillow.

The next day I asked her if she had dreamt about Papa Steve. "No, not yet. My dreams need more power."

I don't know about that. She seems pretty powerful already.