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I never could identify with the person who doesn’t enjoy a catnap in the middle of the day every now and then. It is a rare privilege in the hectic schedule of life to lie down in the afternoon and close my eyes for few minutes, but I relish the opportunity if it comes. It refreshes me and lends a boost for the remainder of the evening and night.

Well, this afternoon I did that. And just when I was drifting off, my teen-aged daughter opened the bedroom door and hollored, “Mama?” With a foggy head, I mumbled something back. When she realized she had disturbed my nap, she tried to leave quietly. But it was too late. I was awake. 

It was okay; mothers are used to intrusions. I allowed the restful moment to last a little longer; so I lingered, stretched out on the sofa in our bedroom just soaking in the peace and beauty of the sunny afternoon. Both the cat and dog slept at my feet.

I suddenly had a flashback of my daughter as a toddler. Those days I desperately needed a nap and could rarely get one. Her naps became my naps, if I could get her to sleep in the afternoon.

(She has always been high strung and not much of a sleeper. To this day, she is a nightowl–just gets to going good around 10 PM and occasionally stays up until 3 or 4 AM. She doesn’t need that much sleep. She amazes me.)

I remembered my daughter’s favorite book as a child, “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch. I read it to her over and over for years and years, even when she was too old for it. We loved it and had read it so many times together that we could say some of the lines together by heart.

When our daughter graduated from high school, we hosted a graduation party at our home for family and friends. I started the party by reading the book, “Love You Forever” out loud to Julia and  to everyone. Our living room was packed with around 30 people. When I picked up the book and began to read, my daughter’s eyes filled with tears, and so did mine. I could hardly get through it. A flood of sweet memories rained down on all of us. Tears ran down many faces as I read the whole book and concluded with the last line:

“I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.”

The book is enchanting at any age, and it afforded us many precious moments and memories. The book says it all, and I guess it is how we feel about each other, “I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always… “

Lying in my bedroom on this sunny fall afternoon, with my daughter close, my husband on his way home from work, my two lazy animals snuggling to my feet, well I feel pretty blessed. In fact, I feel rich.

I am tucking this moment away in a treasure chest. Someday in the future–some winter day–when I may not feel so blessed–so rich–I’ll wrap myself in its warmth.