Sisters and Daughters

Today I was thinking about my parents as I made lunch. They just sent their youngest daughter (19-year-old Cassi) on a mission to Chile. I know they are extremely proud of her and are grateful for her decision, but I also know what a void she leaves behind. She's my only sibling whose whole life I can remember pretty vividly. I wondered how in the world she grew up so fast? And if I, as a sister, felt that way, how were my parents feeling?

I looked at my little girls who were playing so sweetly together in the living room. They were lost in a pretend world with Jessie and Belle, squealing and dancing and collapsing on the floor in giggles. I stood in the kitchen and watched them with an ache in my chest. I noticed that Lainy's curls are longer and bouncier than I remember (when did I really look at her last?). I noticed the way Leah's big brown eyes flash when she has the giggles. I didn't want to interrupt them even though the food was ready. So I just watched them smiling to myself until one of them came in asking for a drink.

How do you tell your kids how much you love them? I tell them every day, but do they get it? I hope so. I hope they know how much I love them, even though I get frustrated sometimes. I hope they know that I can't sleep until I've slipped quietly into their room to make sure they are warm and to kiss their rosy cheeks. Maybe I'll tell them that someday.

Today I gave them hugs and fed them lunch and thanked God that they are mine for a while. And I said a little prayer for my parents who are aching to do the same to their baby girl, but have lent her back to the Lord for now.