Me too

We had read.  We had prayed.  We had blessed. . .and I had just sat down with a book, ready to read and relax after a long day with fifth graders on a field trip, followed by supervising a group project after school. I was done. I was settling in when a small voice called out, "Mama?"
     "Yes, baby bird?"
     She paused.  I actually felt the hesitation in the air.  "I miss Papa," she said finally, her voice catching at the  end.

I immediately put down my book, pushed in my recliner and rose.  The walk to her room is a short one, but from the doorway I could already see her tears freely falling.  I sat beside the curve of her body and wiped tears away, rubbed her back, and smoothed down her hair.  "Me too, Nessa.  Me too."  And then I just held her until she fell asleep, thinking to myself. . .this missing that she feels will never truly go away.  "Grief changes shape, but it will never end."--Keanu Reeves

Papa is one of the first of many she will come to lose whom she has loved.  And grief will change shape through the years, but it will never end.  I feel it too.