But there are moments. You’ve known them. A kiss in a parked car. A melody in the dark. A meeting of eyes. A babe come in a thunderstorm.
She’s got her father’s swagger. And her mother’s goodness. And Patti’s strength of spirit. Go on, boy, write her a song. Read a story by lamplight. Sleep near and greet the pale sun together. Dance in the wet grass, round and round. When she’s old enough to understand, tell her how her Grammy loved you back to life long ago. Love her like it’s your last morning on earth. Love her more than yourself.