“Daddy, will you dance with me to go to sleep like you used to when I was a baby?”
Sure I will. You know, just because you’re another year older now… just because you’re six doesn’t mean you’re not still my baby girl. No matter how big or how old you get, you’ll always be my baby.
“I know that Daddy. ”
I have an important question for you now. Are you ready, because this is serious?
“Oh Daddy! You can ask me your question, but this better not be one of your silly ones.”
What I need to know is if you want your regular “Sleepy Time Playlist”, or if you want Norah Jones like we used to when you were a baby? I don’t know if you remember, but we used to listen to “Feels Like Home” by Norah Jones. That was how we started, before we added other music to make your regular “Sleepy Time Playlist”.
“I want Norah Jones. That’s what makes me get sleepy with my head on your shoulder and you’re dancing, with just a little bit of light. Is that how you’re going to do it? Please Daddy.”
Oh yeah. That’s the only way, if you want it like it was when you were a baby. Do you remember I used to carry you all the way down the road to the mailboxes and turn around and come back to help you get to sleep?
“Well we should start dancing right now before I get too heavy.”
That wont be for a long time.
“How long? When I’m nine or ten? Because that’s coming too soon Daddy!”
It’s a long way away. When you’re nine is still three years away and when you’re ten is four years. That’s a long time.
“Well I’ve got a great big hug and a smooch for you Daddy, because you’ll still dance with me”
This is how the talking went as my youngest began to quiet down, needing extra closeness. and a little movement, gently swaying and the smoky vocals of Norah Jones easing her off into Dreamland with her head on Daddy’s shoulder. And for me, I could feel her little muscles softening as her grip relaxed and I wrapped my arms slightly more securely around her. Her breathing steadied into a rhythmic warmth in my ear. That moment stretched out, elongating in a shimmer barely perceptible but holding in it all the memories we’ve made together and the cradlefull of possibilities unformed before us.