Once in awhile, I come home wearing the weight of the world on my shoulders, completely down and out, and somewhat sure that my life is about to come crashing down around me. It's just a tendency I have during certain seasons in my life and many times, I'm rather inconsolable until the circumstances around me start changing for the better.
It was on one of those days, I walked through the front door and saw my wife inside with my older daughter. She took one look at me and she knew what I was feeling (somehow she always picks it up straightaway). She never asks me what's wrong, just walks over, gives me a peck on the cheek, then turns around and tells Nat, "Papa had a bad day, come and give him a kiss".
Nat would run over squealing in delight, give me a hard hug and an even harder kiss on my cheek.
One day I was thinking about it and realised how significant those two kisses were to me.
The first kiss lets me know that I'm going to make it, no matter what tomorrow holds. The second kiss manages to extract a genuine smile from my face on a day when I feel like I'll never be able to smile again.
One kiss reminds me about hope. The other, about joy.
How can I not love my girls with everything I have?
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