You may not know the sound of her laughter, the inflection in her voice or the wail of her cries. You may not know her smell, her soft touch or her inclinations or idiosyncrasies. She may not leave an effect on you — she might never affect you in any way at all. You may not know the names of her stuffed animals or the names she refers to me as; you may not even know her name.
To you, she may be but one more little face you scroll past on a screen. She may be blonde hair, blue eyes and a radiant smile. She may be someone you're laying eyes on now, for the first time.
I marvel at the sound of her laugher. I revel in her voice's inflection and the ways in which she uses it. I crumble at the sound of her cry. I melt when I lean in and smell the top of her head or the crook of her neck. I delight in her affection; and there's nothing on this earth that gives me more joy than does watching her learn and grow. I know that three-quarters of her stuffed animals are named Wendy. I adore the way she calls me Sandy, Sandsmama or mum. I know her name.
To me, she is divine blessing. She is magic, she is music and she is flame. She is attitude, she is muddy boots and hands in the dirt; blonde hair, blue eyes and the most radiant smile. She is my reason, my only and my eternal Keep Going.