The Sound of Silence

Last night, Camila asked to snuggle. Of course, I didn’t hesitate for a second. It only lasted a few minutes, but we lay there in silence. And yet, the silence was so loud.

Her little hand stroked my face, and my thoughts were racing, thinking about how I could lay there forever and a day. Her breath was warm on my cheek, and all I could think about was how she won’t always want to snuggle with Mommy. One day, she won’t need me like this, she’ll need me, just in different ways.

My heart was so full, and breaking at the same time. I couldn’t stop thinking about how fast time is FLYING—she’ll be 5 next month. It feels like just yesterday I was holding her as a baby, she was the most perfect baby. Now, she’s growing, changing, needing me less in ways I’m not ready for.

In those few minutes, I wanted to freeze time, to stay in that moment where she was still my little girl, needing the comfort only I can give. But I know that’s not how it works. Time keeps moving, and she’ll keep growing. One day, she’ll be too busy, too big to need these little moments.

But for now, I held on. I soaked in every single second, every breath, every stroke of her hand on my face. And when she finally pulled away, I let her go. Because that’s part of it, too. Letting them go, even when you want to hold on forever.