for this day

This auntie’s heart is full. Yes, I have an uncertain future ahead of me. No, I do not have any of this world’s requirements for security. I am, in most respects, a wanderer at the moment. But how blessed it is to be a wanderer with a family.
To spend this day with no greater, more pressing need than to be with my young niece . . .
We began the day with a morning at the local public library, for story hour, where I was professionally inspired by a kindred soul of a librarian [and I told her as much] who freely incorporated all manner of goofiness into our reading time. I galloped my niece on my knees as her gallant knight. I caught bubbles on the tips of my fingers and held them up to the light for her to see. She caught sight of a glimmering bubble perched on my head and gleefully “caught” it to show me. We squeezed the fat hippo and we rubbed the scaly snake.
Later, we walked to the park. She led me to one swing, happily swinging for a turn or two. Then she waved me over to the one next to it, certain it seemed that the neighboring [identical] swing would be superior. Apparently it was, for in this swing she smiled, then watched some wondrous spot on the ground for a bit, her hair all I could see from in front of her.
In short, we lived this day.
Now, a full day done, she sleeps. I sang over her [“The water is wide” was, for some reason, the song that popped into my head tonight] till time to slip out and wait for her breathing to slow. And I sit in the quiet, listening to music while I write. I may not know what tomorrow will look like. But for this moment, for this day, it is well. It is well, with my soul.