My heart does a flip flop when I catch B giving the look to L(4). I don't think he is even aware of the warm melting look that passes over his eyes in an instant. She is growing up so quickly, turning so lovely. Sometimes her blond beauty and innocence bring tears to my own eyes. . . and yet even that feeling pales when I watch her with her daddy.
Sometimes L will be sitting on B's lap and he will brush a strand of hair from her face or she will say something that causes him to gaze at her with extra intensity. I see something in his eyes that is so very precious; a daddy marveling at his daughter, appreciating her, adoring her, completely enamored.
It passes quickly, as all things do around here. And yet I treasure up those special looks. They remind me that I am a daughter, too. To think of my dad, and my Abba Father gazing at me that way. . . What a special look of love.
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