For the past 3 years or so, one of my many pleasures at home has been listening to my wife sing to her daughter at bedtime.
Some nights I am not home.
Some nights her daughter stays with her father.
When we’re all home together, and it’s bedtime, I usually stop what I’m doing and, like a fly on the wall, listen to this beautiful mother break the silent air in our home with unrestrained love.
She’s not a trained singer. Nor has she performed, professionally or otherwise. But I think her voice is amazing.
Maybe I am projecting as I remember how my Dad used to play the guitar and sing to my brother and I, at bedtime, when we were young.
And maybe my love for her is distorting my ear.
In any case, the sound of her floating voice usually compels me to wonder how her daughter sees her. The most beautiful woman in the world. An angel.
For 8 years she has sung her daughter to sleep, every night.
What a beautiful gift for any child to fall into.
My wife, rightly so, would throw this right back and say how lucky she is for having such a bright, intelligent, caring and funny little creature who depends on her.
And this is just one reason why she is special.
