Around 7:30-ish Lila heads to bed, but first demands that I rock her. This is a coveted time for me — Lila’s not all that touchy-feely. She rocks her little arms back and forth to show me what she wants and says, “Lila rot. Lila rot.”
rot = rock
rot = cute
So I rock her. Usually, it’s just her and I. Rocking, rocking, rocking. Me soaking in the stillness of my little kinetic being for about 10 minutes. (On a good day.)
For the past two nights, we’ve had a third party join us. I sit in the chair in Lila’s room and she squeezes in on the right, giving up her normal position on my lap to her baby sister, Vivienne.
They both lean in to me, I lay my head on the back of the chair and we “rot.”
And, because Lila demands it, I sing. (This demand will be curbed as soon as she realized that I’m tone deaf.) Still I sing her two faves: rock-a-bye-baby and row, row, row your boat. Over and over and over and over again.
And then it happens…
…Lila extends her finger toward Vivienne and Vivienne grabs it.
And they sit together, on my lap, heads leaning together and holding hands as I rock them.
They hold hands.
Their little precious hands are stuck like glue to one another. They may temporarily separate, but then, quickly – the one finds the other and they’re back together. Holding hands.
Every now and then Lila will raise her other hand and it will gently graze Vivi’s head or her knee before it goes back to it’s rightful position on Petal, her bunny.
But the whole time, they hold hands.
And they’re quiet. And they listen. And they just are.
Oh, and this is usually after bath time and they smell absolutely delicious.
My heart stops.
I breathe in their hair.
And, I breathe in the moment.
This is why it happened. This is why Vivienne is here 19 months after Lila. So that they could be sisters.