October Mornings

5am? 6am? Over the baby monitor, I hear soft sobs and whispers of "mama, mama, mama". I will my body to rise from the bed and go to the sobbing.

My body retreats from calls of duty, curls deeper in the warmth, smothers the noise with a pillow and drifts off to sleep again. But, the whispers and sobbing return.

Quietly, "mama, mama, mama". The guilt and noise will not be muffled. So, I drag my uncooperative slug of a frame to her room.

Sheepishly, she says, "It's just a little bit dark."

I take her to the couch to cuddle. When sunlight begins to quilt the blankets we stroke, I ask her why she was crying in her crib. A long pause is followed by a gentle, "Because, I wanted you."

She squirms and rearranges our blankets into a heap. I rest my head on the fleecy mound. The weariness is gone.