A BUG’S LIFE

She calls me ‘Nik’ and I call her ‘Bug’.

For my sweet grand baby is a tiny, intricate masterpiece, who once rested ever so delicately on the sill of my soul. When I first caught sight of her on that rainy March day, I couldn’t unlatch my heart quick enough, throw up my arms and let her fly in.

Ever since she arrived, she beckons me to follow her every hop and scurry, three years of curls dancing upon the tender grass of time.

All her adventures start with a trinket-packed fuzzy satchel, there to collect the wonder she finds along the way. At times she will pause and tilt her head, causing me to do the same, for she knows the way back to a place I’ve long forgotten - a world where dreams and stories sprout.

There are moments that I just can’t help myself and pick her up mid-run, swinging her through the air like a bubble wand, her giggles floating up with the spring breeze to join the fluffy clouds.

I want to swallow her up - just like the bumble bee that her baby doll ate the day before. Only I remember that it caused quite a commotion, including a trip by laundry basket to the nearest doctor’s kit where we were forced to perform a coffee table operation.

So instead, I settle for a wet kiss on the cheek, but one is never enough for me so I am reduced to beg for more.

But that stinker refuses and tells me to start counting while she runs off to hide, patiently waiting for the sheer joy of being found. And when I pull off the blanket, I am not surprised to discover that everything about this little one has grown to fill my heart, my soul, my world. 

Everything about this little Bug points me directly to the love of God.

One day, I know - yes, I am very much aware - that my precious girl will outgrow my world and make a way to her own. But for now, I’m going to sit here and watch her for awhile, holding out a jar in one hand, its lid in the other, hoping to catch one more memory to store up on the shelves of my life - hoping to capture what it feels like to be smitten by a Bug.