A Drawing. A Note. A Cup of Coffee.

My Dayla.

I left early this morning  to take brother to the doctor; you on the computer playing games and Daddy in bed slipping in and out of awake.  I asked you to be good to Daddy, as I always request when I leave.  You seemed indifferent to the request as you do most times, but when I came home I found this on his bedside table:

A drawing. A note.  A cup of coffee.

It was so simple, yet something about it speaks volumes to me.  You were good to Daddy.  You brought him a note and a drawing and a cup of coffee to wake up to….all things that you thoughtfully put together and knew would put a smile on his face as he opened his eyes for the first time today.

Sometimes you are such a pill….and then there are times when you do things like this.  I love watching you grow up. I love watching you interpret the world around you in the ways you do.  I love your thoughtfulness.  I love your drawings. I love your love of our coffee breath (yes, you do stick your nose in our mouths after we drink coffee).

My sweet Dayla, I love YOU.

One thought on “A Drawing. A Note. A Cup of Coffee.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *