She Was Loved
Her laugh broke the silence two breaths before she burst through the French doors of my studio. I placed the oil pastels out of her reach, and cleared my mind of anything but the spritely little girl vibrating with excitement in front of me.
"Daddy! Daddy! Guess what?" Her blue eyes, so much like her mother's, sparkled from beneath impossibly long golden lashes.
"You just won the lottery and are going to take care of me for the rest of my life?" I asked, tugging on one unruly flaxen curl that had escaped its pigtail.
She giggled again. "No, Daddy. You're silly. I don't even know what the lottery is."
I tapped one forefinger on the cleft of my chin. "Okay, you didn't win the lottery. That means you must have gotten your driver's license."
"No, Daddy!" Her giggle warmed my heart and filled the places so often empty.
I threw up my hands in mock frustration. "I don't know then. What?"
"I saw Momma."
My heart shattered like crystal against stone. "Sweetheart--"
"Don't worry, Daddy. I know she's an Angel watching over us." My little girl, a miniature version of my late wife, wrapped her arms around my legs and squeezed. "She's very beautiful, Daddy, and she wanted me to tell you it didn't hurt, and she loves us very much."
Words wouldn't form so I squatted down, wrapped my arms around what was left of my heart and pulled her against my chest. I missed my wife every day, and cursed the drunk driver who'd taken her from us, but because of the little girl in my arms, she'd never truly be gone.
Maybe she was an Angel.
Maybe just a memory.
All I knew was, she was loved.
©Copyright R.S. Emeline 2011 All Rights Reserved.