You awaken with a start. Not your mother’s protracted stretching ritual. More like your father. Fast. Ready for it all. You’re sitting up, greeting me with wide eyes. In you, I see everyone you love most. Tonight, as you move from sleep-state to wakefulness, I see your great-grandmother’s smile. For a millisecond, she beams through you. You. Undeniably you. I hold you to my chest. You raise your face to mine. As you bite my nose, hard, familiar tears rush to my eyes. I exhale and thank everything for you.