This week's Trifecta challenge concerns the word, juggle. Hopefully, the story behind my entry is fairly self-explanatory. Enjoy.
Damn you, Laura Ingalls!!!
A pioneer life,
in the soft glow of lamplight.
My young daughter's body
melts into mine,
as Pa covers Laura with blankets of fur
to keep winter's chill at bay.
Builder of homes, provider of food, protector of the family,
Laura's Pa can do anything.
That I can, too, is confirmed
by her hand reaching for mine as we read.
We are comfortable in the warmth of her pink bedroom,
flannel jammies and slippers, too.
Yet we feel the bitter winds of The Long Winter
And thirst for sunshine,
in the starlight,
in our home.
The bonds of family.
The foundation of Home.
Timelessly on display
in the pages of our most treasured of books.
The lessons, obvious.
Her small heart beats with vigor.
She is ever becoming Laura;
stronger, more able, more a young woman
With dreams that cause my heart to ache.
Pa helps Laura into Almanzo's wagon.
I stop reading aloud.
her eyes to mine.
I has to juggle my many emotions,
managing to meekly clear my throat.
Together they watch that wagon drive away
Damn you, Laura Ingalls!
The story of family and of trails blazed across space and time
is now a road map for my daughter;
a way forward,
a yardstick for her to measure success and love.
The final pages read.
I tuck her gently under a downy comforter.
A tender kiss.
A lamp turned off.
"Daddy loves you," I say in the darkness.
"I love you, too, Daddy."
I leave the room
to her dreams,
whatever she makes them to be.