Little Human

Paula (Powla) sits in my lap shaking her arms, legs splayed out staring at the picture in my hand. She grabs my fingers in order to make my hand move the picture. The movement excites her mind, stimulates some distant connection she once had to her frontal lobe. She is a delayed child. She has a damaged brain with such an amazing ability to be in the moment, every second. She is my teacher.

I sit staring and kissing her sweet face for hours. She is beautiful and recognizes me. She reaches out to me, grabs and pulls herself up onto me for the 23rd time in two wonderful days. I can't get enough of her. Her only desire is my lap and this picture. My only desire is to hold her tightly, kiss her cheek a million times and hold her picture just as she likes.

Now I've left, she is in Philly, I am in NY. All I want to imagine is her face, eye lashes and creamy brown eyes. She smells like a little human and I want her cheek right here. I want to maul her and squeeze her.

I am blessed to have had her in my lap and will be blessed when it happens again.