She giggles when her mom lifts her high over her head.
The sound of her little tiny feet slapping quickly, in short little steps, across the tile floor,
instantly puts a smile on my face.
Her little index finger reaches out to push the buttons on the stereo.
"No Kylie, NO!" Her mom scolded in a harsh, deep tone.
She turns to look at me, with eyebrows drawn in a questioning form.
I'm not smiling.
She lowers her little head very slowly, as if she was suddenly, almost too frozen to move.
Her tiny bottom lip curls down.
Her heart is broke.
The tears flow, as she cries.
She lifts those slim little arms up for me to hold her.
She's is trouble, but how can I resist.
My first grandchild....I've waited months for her to be old enough to perform that very action.
I reach down to lift her up.
She places a tight, sweet hug around my neck, and her little hand pats my back.
Her heavy breaths are warm against my throat, as her tears wet my shirt.
I cradle her in my arms, taking in the tenderness of the moment.
She hugs tighter.
So sweet.
Do they have to grow up?
I bow my head down to her ear.
"I love you Toog." I whispered.
She raises her body off my chest to look me in the eye, with those big water-filled turquoise eyes and long moist eyelashes.
Her little arms cross in front of her, to do the sign for love.
Awww.....my own heart just rose to my throat, I want to cry.
She may be too young to announciate that word with her own mouth, but she understands, already, what those 4 letters mean.
Love....it really is a language.
A language where no words are necessary.
