Tonight

Kevin was reading Lily a book in her bed. Landon was already asleep in his crib, or close to it. I was washing sippy cups and trying to make sense of the chaos I call my downstairs. Kevin yelled down to me: "Lily wants you to come lay with her." I was sure it was just another delay to help her achieve her goal of not going to sleep, yet. "Tell her I'll be up there in just a minute."

I mosied up to her room a few minutes later thinking she might have forgotten about needing her Mommy. I peaked into her room and she let me know that she had been waiting for me. I smiled as I laid down beside her on top of her quilt, as if I wasn't planning on staying a while. "Let's have girl talk." Her cheeks puffed as she smiled hoping my response would be yes. I've never said no to girl talk with my girl, so this wouldn't be a first. "Sure! What do you want to talk about?" She usually relives her day through tiny moments that she recalls in specific details. I asked her questions and prompted her to think more about her day and we carried on a conversation like we were teenage best friends.

I was tired. Drained. I was ready for bed and let her know that I was going to go to bed now. She softly asked if I could lay with her for just one more minute. I did, of course. And then it started: she told me she didn't want to lay down by herself. "Why?", I asked her. "Because I want you to lay beside me." I had an idea. Why don't you close your eyes and pretend that Mommy is laying right beside you. She closed her eyes, grinning...she didn't have to pretend, I was still there. I gave her one more kiss and told her how much I loved her and to sleep good. "Okay, Mommy! Can you leave my door crack-ed open?" I left her door slightly cracked, to make her feel more comfortable. Like she was closer to us because she wasn't totally shut out from the rest of the house.

I walked out of her room and a few seconds later I heard her piercing cry. I was halfway down the stairs when I ran back in her room wondering what in the world was happening. She didn't calm down when she saw me and I just kept telling her I'm right here, Mommy is right here. And she snapped out of it. She told me she was scared. Scared to be by herself and scared because it was so dark. I was quickly trying to think of ideas to make her feel safer. "Do you want Mommy to turn on your lamp? You can sleep with the light on." She said yes and I did. She felt so much safer. So much more content. I cracked her door again, as she requested, and she must have fallen asleep quickly because I didn't hear another peep out of her.

And then I got to thinking. I got to thinking about how I needed her to show me how scared she was tonight. I needed her to need me. To show me that it's okay to be scared. It's okay to be upset about being in the dark. And if it takes someone else turning on the light to help you through it, that's okay. I need a lamp turned on just like my little girl does. A light. A glimpse into the future. A cracked door so I don't feel so isolated from the rest of the world. Anything to make me feel that much safer, so I can get through one more night. And all of the nights to follow. I need to take my own advice and pretend like someone is laying right beside me through it all. After all, they are. It's just hard to see because it's so dark.

Thank you, sweet girl, for showing me the light.