Last night, after Richard and I realized Lost was NOT airing a new episode, we decided to watch the amazing documentary “A Mother’s Courage”, which a number of people saw and contacted me about. Emma was sitting in bed next to me, (she does not go to sleep much before 9:00PM, despite waking at around 6:00AM). I was propped up on some pillows with my knees bent. Emma ran her index finger up and down my arm, saying, “You may NOT hit Mommy. You have to be gentle.”
Emma wants to hit the people she is most fond of. All of us tell her when she does this, “You may NOT hit, Emma. You have to be gentle.”
Sometimes I’ll add, “Look, Emma. Like this,” and then I’ll stroke her arm or face. So last night Emma was parroting this and, it seems to me, practicing.
I laughed when she ran her finger up my arm. “That tickles,” I said.
Emma laughed, “Be gentle.”
I nodded my head, watching the television as the documentary began.
And then Emma leaned over, with a enormous grin on her face and kissed my left knee. Emma has never initiated a kiss like this. She kisses me good-bye or when I get home from work. She’ll kiss me back when I kiss her or when I ask her to. To kiss me as she did last night, for no apparent reason other than because she wanted to – it was one of those moments – a indescribably beautiful, touching, magical, moment. I looked over at Richard. “Did you see that? Did you see that!? She kissed me!”
I looked back at Emma, “Thank you Emmy. I love that!”
She beamed at me and said, “Kiss Mama.”
And then I held her and I wept.