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‎My daughter hums, almost constantly. She does it when she brushes her teeth, when she put on her shoes, when she dresses the dolls I’m glad she’s not too old to still love playing with.

She doesn’t even notice she’s doing it. From time to time I will ask her what song she’s singing and she’ll look at me, not understanding what I’m asking.

That’s when it occurred to me that whereas I hear words in my head, she hears music. That is her comfort, her centre, her constant companion. And it makes me smile.

I sometimes wonder what it’s like to hear the music, because it’s definitely not something I have ever experienced. I’m basically as non-musical as you can get, but maybe one day she will explain it to me. I will have to ask her.

I’m glad she has it, has something to keep her company, even if she can’t yet appreciate it. And so I will continue to smile each time I hear the humming, off in the distance, down the hall, across the dinner table. And I will lean over and kiss her on the head, although she won’t know why I do it.

Because I love her, and I love that she hears music wherever she goes.

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windows down

windows down

The other nights are about schedules and lists and chores to be done.

The other nights are about lunches to be packed, feet to be washed, clothes to be folded.

The other nights are about neat and tidy, lined up straight, spic and span.

Night after night after night.

But not this night.

This night is about rolling the windows down and turning up the radio.

This night is about taking the long way home so we can listen to just one more song.

This night is about playing drums on the side of the car, hands out the window, wind in our hair.

This night is about singing off key; as loud as we possibly can.

This night is about pulling over to the side of the road just to enjoy the pink sun dipping down behind the trees.

This night is about pajamas that don’t match.

This night is about bypassing the fruit and having ice cream before bed.

This night is about forgetting about those other nights.

Because there will be lots of time for those other nights; but very little time for nights like this.

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