Prose

“Do you want to give Jyoti a hug?” Chris said to his daughter Kai, almost three years old.

She came immediately over to me, small dollie dangling from her hand that I had just given her, and hugged my legs before I could bend down to embrace her.

Rather than change the moment, I just leaned over and kissed the top of her brown curls and whispered, “Maybe I’ll see you again if you and your family come to Colorado.”

She was still and quiet as she disengaged from the hug, and I began slowly to rub her back, gliding my hand up and down over her raspberry-colored shirt.

I was surprised when she didn’t move, with people all around us talking about the drive home they would have…she, her dad, and her mom, Sonya my granddaughter.

She remained still, allowing me to slowly touch her back, as if for a moment in time, she knew how deeply touched I was to meet her, my great granddaughter, for the first time.

Three months earlier I had met her mother for the first time, and now I was being visited by their whole family of three in southern California where I had come for just this occasion.

I was filled with feelings, suddenly tears just seeping into my eyes. I was surprised by all of it, and just kept up that slow movement as she allowed my touch.

And then it was over. A bustling of goodbyes, hugs and movement toward their car.

I stood there, feelings gently held, realizing the bonding that had just taken place, and grateful for it.

Her brown curls, so like her dad’s…so like my own…remain an image in my memory. Just like her sweet face!

Jyoti