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  • Writer's pictureJessica Urlichs

Our Heartbeats

Holly still loves listening to my heartbeat. Every night before bed. I sit there on our chair together in her room, sometimes for over 45 minutes as she happily drifts off. I can’t be wearing a robe or anything over my chest, she fusses until there’s skin to skin.

She puts her nose on my chest and breathes in and makes a melody of calm. I always go with it, because natures so beautiful like that. It teaches us about how we were always enough. Especially on those days I feel like I’m not even close, I’m reminded that this closeness IS enough.

I think of the comments of it being habitual, of the time I can’t get back being spent in her room. It’s true, this might become habitual, she might seek comfort by climbing onto my lap later, or crying into my neck when she’s older telling me of her troubles. And I won’t get this time back, that’s true too.

Because one day she will stop.

And one day I’ll miss her even though she’s right there.

And that one day will be a today. They are long and they are short but these memories we are making through whispers in our skin is the warmth she will always feel. As independence in her grows there will be less room for me.

Because this will be over in a heartbeat. But the memories will be carried in ours forever.

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