My Daughter Reached for My Hand Without Looking

Dear Delyara, We were crossing the parking lot. That was all. She reached back for my hand without even turning around, like she already knew it would be there. That trust moved through me so quickly it almost made me stop walking. Maybe because there are so many places now where I feel unseen. Maybe because motherhood is one of the few roles where someone still reaches for me with total instinct. Maybe because she’s getting older, and I know enough to understand that one day she won’t reach back like that without thinking. I held on tighter than I needed to. Not because the parking lot was dangerous. Because time is. That little hand in mine felt like grace. Ordinary, exhausting, holy grace.