Memory of a Joy Moment
A game my baby played during a night feeding.
From my journal, Summer night, 1990
I am rocking my little daughter to sleep. We sit in our rocking chair with the light low. She holds close, wrapped in one arm, a favorite small teddy bear and holds her bottle of milk with both hands.
I rock her steadily, settling back in the chair, resting my head, and closing my eyes to discourage her attempts to continue making eye contact and trying to get me to play.
From time to time I peek at her through narrow slits of eyes to see if she is drifting off to sleep. But this is a night she is waiting for her chance to play a small joke on me. I will be treated to her exquisite sense of humor and will be convinced this is absolute proof of her very high intelligence.
She’s lying in my arms, her mouth smiling around the nipple of the bottle, her face all comically screwed up with the effort of keeping her eyes closed, pretending to sleep. As I watch, she opens small slits to peek at me. When she catches me looking she quickly squeezes her eyes shut and giggles with joy at having discovered a brand new way to play peek-a-boo.
Such a jewel of joy this is for me. I am naturally charmed and delighted by her baby sense of humor and her simple glee. Such little moments give profound meaning to my life. Madnesses of love.
Though so many years have passed since that night, I can instantly recall the feel of the small, warm body in my arms, the ambiance of the low-lit nursery, and the sound of that baby giggle.
Some joys stay with you forever.
